


Our Sharp Edges Aligned

by stellahibernis



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky's Wakandan goat farm, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Two years of stolen moments, and a bit overlap, honesty can be painful but it helps, redefining a relationship, what does compatibility even mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellahibernis/pseuds/stellahibernis
Summary: Inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield was true about Bucky and Steve before the war ripped them apart, but it wasn’t all there was between them. Their relationship was a lot less straightforward, and now with all the added baggage accumulated over the years it’s even more complicated.After Bucky is woken from stasis in Wakanda they have to figure out how they fit together and how to shape their relationship from now on. There’s also the newly discovered physical attraction to consider.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story is written, and while the editing will take some time, I’m committed to finish posting before Endgame is released. Hopefully it doesn’t go down to the finish line with me posting chapter eight on 23rd, that’s really my deadline since on Wednesday I’m rushing to the theater from work.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading this!

The first thing Bucky hears when he comes to is, “For the record, I think this was a stupid thing to do.”

He forces his eyes open, even the small movement difficult with the effects of the stasis still lingering on him. He’s lying on a table, but it’s not a cold and metallic examination table. Instead it’s covered by something that almost feels like sand under him, warm like the memories of the Coney Island beach of his childhood, albeit the pebbles under his fingertips are too even for that. It doesn’t spill loose when he moves, which is a relief as well. It must be some sort of Wakandan healing device, it would fit the bill considering what he’s already seen. There’s a pillow under his head, and he’s covered with a brightly patterned blanket that’s both light and warm. There is no obvious monitoring equipment around him, just a bracelet with three black beads on it around his wrist and an IV attached to his right hand.

“It’s saline,” the voice continues, its owner obviously keeping a track of his gaze, and Bucky finally looks at the speaker.

He thought it would be someone with a young voice, but she’s actually young, in her teens still. She’s wearing a loose orange dress with a white zig zag pattern on it, and her numerous braids are tied to a knot at the back of her head, the ends swinging around as she moves. She too has a bracelet, although with a lot more black beads on it than his does.

She comes closer and points to each of the three beads on his bracelet in turn. “This one is the medical bead that keeps track of your health, this is the communicator and translator, and this is access, it’ll open the doors for you to spaces where you’re authorized to go.”

She’s very direct about it, not hiding what Bucky immediately catches; the Wakandans will be able to monitor him closely with them. Surprisingly it doesn’t bother him, maybe because she’s so open, and of course if it gets too much he can just take the bracelet off. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he says rather than asking any of the other questions urgently pressing to burst out.

“No. It wasn’t an easy time for us, when you first arrived. I’m Shuri, and I’m here because I’m going to fix the trouble in your head. Or, well, I did most of it already, you just need to be conscious for the rest. And like I said, I thought going under in the first place was dumb, the healing would have been easier with you awake, but I guess my brother has a soft spot for respecting autonomy to a degree of not protesting when someone wants to run and hide as an ice cube.”

It’s a lot to digest, and Bucky is left blinking at her while she stares back for a few seconds, looking very unimpressed, before turning back toward a worktable where a lot of tiny parts are laid out in neat rows, a holographic 3D screen showing schematics that she manipulates via gestures and her bracelet.

Bucky lies back and stares at the ceiling, going over her words inside his head. She’s T’Challa’s sister then, which means the royal family is still going above and beyond when it comes to helping him. Secondly, she apparently already has solved the problem regarding the triggers in his head, which is something he never really dared to hope for. From the way she said it, he gathers it wasn’t even that complicated. He’s suddenly awash with relief, a sense of peace stealing into his mind now that he knows he’s about to be free.

She’s also right about him running away. He knows that there was no real need for him to be frozen; he would have been just as safe in Wakanda regardless. If someone could make it to the heart of the country to get to him, they could have easily unfrozen him too. He knows it now, and he knew it when he proposed the stasis. He’d thought his reasoning was terribly transparent even then, and yet no one had protested, they’d just agreed and made it as easy an experience as possible. Even Steve hadn’t said a word against it, he’d just asked if Bucky was sure that it was what he wanted. Bucky had been both relieved and disappointed by Steve’s reaction.

He’d been relieved, because it had been overwhelming to be in Steve’s presence for the few days they’d had since Bucharest. It had been too much, and suggesting stasis had been easier than having to actually ask for some distance when he couldn’t just leave, couldn’t just vanish the way he did two years earlier. He’d spent those two years hiding from a lot of people, but Steve had been a significant reason for it too, not that Bucky wants to actually admit it, mostly because he doesn’t want to hurt Steve any more than he already has. Now on the other side he’s not at all sure that what he did was any easier than talking things through would have been, mostly because the talk still looms ahead of him. All he managed was to postpone it.

“How long has it been?” he finally asks, having sorted out his thoughts at least a little bit.

“Six weeks.”

 

* * *

 

It’s been six weeks since Bucky went into stasis, five and half since Steve left Wakanda, when he gets the message from Shuri.  _ He’s awake, all good. I’ll let you know when he’s ready to see you. _ It’s as clear as can be without actually saying it; he shouldn’t go back yet.

Steve is ashamed that his first instinctive feeling of relief is twofold, it’s for Bucky’s safety, but also for Shuri’s advice to stay put. He’s even more ashamed that the initial thought that flashed through his head was,  _ Already? _

“What’s going on?” Natasha asks a minute later when Steve is still frowning at his phone, staring at the message.

“Bucky is awake.” Steve wants to say more, but he suddenly can’t talk over the constriction in his throat, just saying the words aloud made all of it more real. He doesn’t know what else to say, where to start unraveling the tangle in his head.

“Okay, I’m sensing a but here, shouldn’t you be happy? Is there a problem with the triggers?” she asks, coming to him and laying a hand on his shoulder in support. It would be no use to try and hide his feelings from her, from any of his friends really, because Sam and Wanda have also stopped what they were doing and are looking at him. It means he’ll have to try and explain at least part of it.

“No, it’s all good. Shuri explained to me already a while ago that she knew how to remove the triggers, and she now said everything is fine. And I am happy, I really am, that Bucky doesn’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“But there’s still the but,” Sam observes.

“Yeah, there is. I just, I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s just that, Bucky is the most important person to me, has been for a long time, but we also had our difficulties. I’m not saying we were ever about to break our friendship or anything, but neither was it as simple as the books and such like to describe. And now I don’t know how it’ll all work out considering everything that’s happened in between,” Steve confesses. He can tell the others are still halfway in the dark, but he doesn’t have words for it, he never had words for any of what his and Bucky’s friendships was like. Whenever he has tried to describe it what he has to say has always felt woefully inadequate.

Wanda comes to sit on the bed next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, just offers the simple comfort of her physical presence. She’s naturally tactile, something that clearly stems from her close relationship with her brother, and after they got to know each other better she started treating Steve sort of like an older brother. She’s often sitting next to him, staying in close contact with no other expectations to it. For Steve it has been a good thing as well, because these days people don’t seem to touch as much as they used to unless it’s among family or a romantic relationship, and he hasn’t had any of that since he’s been single all this time. He toughed it out, but it was when Wanda came along he realized he had been craving touch. With her it has been very easy, and these days they both know how to reassure each other with not only words but touch. They know how to find comfort from each other.

“Are you going to Wakanda, then?” Natasha asks, and Steve makes a face.

“It depends, Shuri said I should wait. I’ll go if Bucky wants to see me.”

“Do you think there’s an if there?” Sam asks, frowning.

“Well, he did spend the last two years hiding, and now he chose to go into stasis even when it wasn’t necessary. We both knew he was safe enough in Wakanda for that to be an overreaction. I’d say that’s a pretty clear sign he doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

“He’s probably overwhelmed, it’ll take time,” Natasha says, all business, but also gentle in her tones, almost placating, which annoys Steve. He pushes the feeling down as much as he can, because it’s unfair toward her, and besides, they have to live in small quarters, so it’s better to try and avoid arguments.

“I know that. It’s just, it wasn’t exactly uncomplicated for us during the war, or even before it, quite frankly, and I wonder if it all just adds up, if we’re too different now. I wonder if he’s decided it’s better for our ways to part for good.” Steve shakes his head. “But, no use worrying about it, I guess, I’ll hear from Shuri either way.” He smiles, but based on the unimpressed looks he gets he isn’t very convincing, something Sam confirms.

“That was the saddest fake smile I’ve ever seen.”

Everyone drops the topic then, but Wanda stays next to him and Steve can feel Nat and Sam’s eyes on him while he goes through the intelligence reports they get from Wakanda as well as through Natasha’s channels that undoubtedly include Fury. There are still Hydra bases around, as well as people dealing alien weapons, and those are things Steve can do something about.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, what are we doing here?” Bucky asks, looking around.

It’s a picturesque site, a small farm surrounded by green fields falling into a glimmering lake. There’s a village a little way off, beyond the hill, and the children playing outside had seen them arrive on the hover car and ran out to greet them. They’re playing in the shallow water now, their happy shouts calming Bucky’s mind rather than putting him on the edge like the noise of families used to do in Bucharest. It does wonders to know he’s not at risk of losing himself.

“Remember when I asked you to describe a place where you were happy?” Shuri asks.

Bucky nods, because of course he does. It had been a couple of days after he woke up, over two weeks ago now, and back then they’d been working through the last traces of the triggers, making sure everything was gone and that there was no permanent damage. Bucky had described living in Brooklyn in his childhood, during the happy twenties when times were easier even for the poorer set, and he hadn’t yet had too many worries beyond Steve’s asthma attacks and winter colds. Back then they’d scared him, sure, but he hadn’t yet understood how serious they actually were.

“I asked for a reason,” she says. “You need somewhere you’ll be comfortable during the time your brain heals, somewhere that won’t be too stressful, and while I can’t replicate the conditions, I could find something close to it.”

“Here? The only time I ever remember seeing a farm was during the war, and that definitely wasn’t a happy time.”

Shuri shakes her head, laughing. “No, you dummy. I was aiming for the community. You talked of how you knew many of the people living in the few blocks to every direction, how the kids played together, how you helped your neighbors. And for something like that, life in a small place like this is the best, but if you think it won’t work out, we’ll find something else. I will say the farm would also help with another thing you’ll need, some activity that’s diverse enough but not taxing to you brain.”

Bucky sees it then, and he’s sure she’s right, although he’d try even if he wasn’t just because they’ve already spent a lot of time and resources on him. There’s of course the part that the people will have to accept him, but the children at least are friendly, and he suspects Shuri wouldn’t have brought him if she didn’t think the whole community wouldn’t take him in. He’s lived a solitary life for two years, not to mention the years before then when his handlers didn’t really treat him like a person, but he used to be sociable, and while it’s no longer as easy as it used to be, he misses it, misses connecting with people, and now he’s safe enough to try again.

“Whose farm is this, anyway?”

“No one’s, at the moment. You’ll help the village as well if you settle in and do your share of the work. There are goats and a couple of cows as well as some chickens that belong to this farm. They’re at a temporary shelter for now, but you can get them back whenever.”

It sounds almost too good to be true, although intimidating as well. “I know nothing about livestock.”

Shuri grins. “Well, that’ll get you started with getting to know everyone, you can ask questions. And you have the network access, you can look up relevant information there. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” She sets off as if it’s a done deal, and Bucky follows, because she’s right, he has already decided he will try this.

They walk to the village, and Bucky is immediately taken in and made to help with dinner preparations while Shuri talks with the elders. The missing arm hinders him a bit, but the people take it easily into account, pairing him up with someone when necessary, and by the end of the day Bucky is amazed at how well-integrated he feels. He’s still relying on the translator on his bracelet a lot, but he has hopes that soon enough he can do without. He had already started picking up the language before, and while working today he learned a lot of new words.

When he goes back to the little house at the farm he finds it fully furnished, not luxurious but comfortable, which suits him just fine. All the basics he’ll need are there, and his personal effects have been delivered as well. It’s late, so he washes and burrows under the blankets in his bed, and falls asleep easily in the warmth.

***

“You’d think a princess who’s also the leader of innovation of a whole country would have better use for her time than trekking out to see me every other day,” Bucky greets Shuri a couple of weeks after he first came to live on the farm.

He’s mostly settled now, his little flock of animals is at home and he’s learning the things he needs to know, but he still needs a lot of help. Happily he gets it too, often from the kids who tend to wander in groups to see him after they’re released from school. Bucky tries to give back as much as he can, and he’s found that even though having just one arm hinders him compared to before, he’s still strong enough that he can be of a lot of help even as he is. Not to mention, he suspects some of the parents are grateful their kids have another source of entertainment, and he’s happy enough to let them hang around and teach him the language as well as practical farm life.

“It’s fun and relaxing, and apparently I should make an effort to find more of both those things,” Shuri says, a shadow flashing in her eyes. She’s generally very happy and sunny in her demeanor, but even that cannot hide the sadness that understandably still lingers inside her due to the loss of her father only a few months earlier.

“I’m glad to have you, whenever,” Bucky says, putting the teasing aside for a moment. Sometimes the right course of action after all is honesty.

“Have you figured out how to contain the goats yet?” she asks, changing the topic after giving him a sincere smile.

“Mostly, I think. They can climb surprisingly well, though. I saw some goat pens in Europe back in the day and I’m pretty sure they didn’t have as high fences as I need to keep these in.”

“It’s the Vibranium in the soil. For some reason goats especially seem to gain from it, more than most mammals,” Shuri explains, her eyes dancing with laughter. She has laughed at him many times due to his trouble with keeping the goats in their enclosure, especially at the story of him waking up with one standing at the edge of his mattress and staring at him a week into his stay. By comparison the cows and chickens are perfectly docile. “But they’re not running away, even when they get free, so you’ve got that going for you at least. You’re quite settled then, right? You look healthier already.”

“I think I’m getting there. You were right, it is the right kind of environment here for me.”

“Of course I was right. Although I’d say it’s still missing something.”

“A lot of things are different here,” Bucky says, even when he knows it’s no use trying to distract her. So far she hasn’t talked about Steve, other than to mention occasionally where he is and to tell him she’d asked him to wait, but now is apparently the time. Bucky gives up at her frown rather than make her spell it out to him. “I know. It’s just, he’s familiar enough still, but it’s also weird. I’m not sure I know how to be with him anymore.”

“But you want to, too.” It’s not a question, and Bucky wonders how obvious he is.

“Yeah. I do, but I wonder, if we actually spend time together without the distraction of being imprisoned or in mortal danger, will he still want to be with me? I know I’m not the same I used to be.”

“And do you think he is the same man you knew before?” Now Shuri’s question is gentle, she has moved to the goat pen and is petting one of the kids, not looking at him. Bucky knows she’s purposefully giving him space, and he’s grateful for it.

“I know he isn’t, it’s just, he hasn’t had the whole of himself overhauled, scrubbed away and put together wonky like I have since we last knew each other. I just wonder if something did go wrong.” He looks across the lake, it’s waters calm and shimmering, unable to reassure him now. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Shuri glancing at him.

“Is there a specific reason why you worry?”

“I went to the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian soon after I got away from Hydra,” Bucky says, deciding to tell her. “It helped me, it solidified to me that the bits and pieces I remembered were true, that I had been someone else, and it gave me a direction to work toward. But there was this narrative, I remember it saying we were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. And it was true, I know it is, and yet it feels like half the truth. It doesn’t make me feel at ease like it should, it makes me think there’s something hidden, something complicated.”

“And you think that’s because something has changed in you? Surely you know that no one’s life is that simple, of course there was more to it than that.”

“No, I know. It’s just, I know we were close, but some of the public story just doesn’t feel right in my gut. I don’t know how to explain.”

Shuri hesitates. “Do you want me to tell him to keep waiting, that you’re still recovering?”

Bucky knows she would if he asked; she has handled all communication toward Steve so far, has made it so easy for him, and while it has made the last few weeks simpler to handle, Bucky is starting to feel like he’s hiding. Of course he has been hiding for a while now, ever since D.C. really, but it’s bothering him now. He keeps staring across the water, watches the flock of waterfowl taking into air, and finally squares his shoulders. “No, it’s better to rip the band-aid, see where this goes. I’ve been running long enough.” She grins at him, looking so proud he feels a flush heating his cheeks. “Let’s just feed the goats and not talk about it, okay?”

 

* * *

 

Four weeks after he was told Bucky was awake, Steve gets a message that he should come to Wakanda, that Bucky wants to talk to him. He reads the message a thousand times, probably puts underlying meanings into it that aren’t actually there, just constructs of his overactive imagination. Still, he wonders if it does mean something that Shuri says Bucky wants to talk to him, rather than see him, or spend time with him.

They recently wrapped up an investigation on a Hydra branch, resulting into three bases going up in a smoke, and they’d agreed to take a few weeks easily, to lay low until the excitement blew over. Hence it’s a perfect time for him to go to Wakanda, and Steve starts packing his essentials immediately. Wanda has already left, gone to meet Vision, Steve suspects, even though she hasn’t openly talked about it. She has looked happier recently and Steve wishes with all his heart it’ll work for her. Natasha smiles at him, kisses him on the temple as he’s contemplating on whether to take a sketchbook and pencils, because he so far hasn’t managed to make any use of them, but Sam frowns. It’s clear something is weighing on his mind, but Steve doesn’t press, he’s sure he’ll hear about it soon enough, because Sam definitely isn’t one to hold back.

Late that night, when Steve has packed everything, sketchbook included, and arranged his transport, Sam corners him outside their little cabin.

“There’s no obligation for you to go back,” Sam says. “Not if it makes you unhappy.”

Steve hesitates, because he doesn’t think he is unhappy, or at least he isn’t any more than he was before the message form Shuri. “I get what you mean, although I kind of do have to go. He was always there for me, and I want to do the same. Not because he expects it, but because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

“I know. I’m just saying, keep an eye on it, and don’t let it get worse. You’ve already been bruised by his actions, and I don’t mean literally even when that’s true too.”

Steve gives him a shaky smile. “You cut the ground from under the joke I was going to make.”

“That’s why I said that. But really, just try and take care of yourself. Not every friendship lasts a lifetime, and it’s okay.”

Steve is quiet for a long moment, because even considering giving up on Bucky in any way hurts. Yet at the same time Sam is right, it hasn’t been easy for the past two years and change, and even now that he’s about to go to see Bucky Steve doesn’t know if it’s to try and make it better or for goodbyes. He doesn’t know what Bucky wants, and he has considered it may not end the way he would like it to. It’s been less than three months since he left Wakanda, and nothing is any clearer for him. Not yet at least; maybe some things will be once they have the talk with Bucky.

In the end he nods at Sam, not quite able to make a promise in words. Even so the thought is now at the back of his head, and he has to consider it. Maybe it would be the best for the both of them, almost an echo of Bucky’s words in his head, if they were to cut things short if it seems they’ve grown too far apart. He’s not sure he’s ready to do so, not sure he’s ready to even meet Bucky again, but things won’t get better by avoiding what is to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The not so simple reunion in the next one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the day of reunion.

Steve is picked up by a Wakandan plane from northern Spain. Rather than the more utilitarian jets he’s seen previously, this is clearly meant for passenger transport, although Steve has no doubt it could still outrun any non-Wakandan jet if needed. There are a few other passengers on board already, and while most of them keep to their own, the woman who appears to be the leader of the team introduces herself to Steve as Nakia. She says they’ve been conducting negotiations for the new humanitarian outreach program, and that they’re coming home now. Steve has heard a little of the program, and she appears to be happy to talk of it, because it’s obviously something she’s passionate about. The journey to Wakanda doesn’t take that long, but by the time they arrive Steve already likes her, her obvious integrity and passion for helping others, as well as her sense of humor. All of it marks her as someone to respect.

When they land at Birnin Zana a member of the King’s Guard, N’Dele, whom Steve met when he was in the city the previous time, is there to receive him, and Steve says his goodbyes to Nakia before following him. N’Dele conveys T’Challa’s apologies for not being there to receive him personally, and that he’ll take Steve to Bucky. Steve isn’t surprised by not meeting T’Challa who obviously is very busy running the country, and says no apology is necessary, it’s more than enough that they’ve arranged transport.

It’s a relatively short trip by a hover car, and N’Dele drops him off at a picturesque village surrounded by fields, hills and a forest to one side, saying the residents will direct him onward. Steve has barely stepped out before a young girl spots him and calls out something to a woman working nearby, possibly her mother, before coming and grabbing his hand.

“Come, I’m taking you to the White Wolf. You can help me practice English when we walk.”

Steve is helplessly charmed by her assertive nature, and allows himself to be dragged through the village while listening to her happy prattling. The people greet him with nods, looking amused at the girl, M’Tolla as she introduces herself. She says she’s studied English for a year now, and while her command of the language isn’t perfect, she has a wide vocabulary and they find chatting easy as they go. Steve asks about the name White Wolf, since he hasn’t heard it before, but she just laughs and says they use it for Bucky because it’s right, no other explanation to it. There probably doesn’t need to be, either. If it feels right to them and Bucky doesn’t mind, then it’s enough.

They climb over a grassy hill, and the first sight that catches Steve’s attention from the top is the beautiful lake below them. It’s not very large, but it’s glimmering under the sun and he can see flocks of birds flying across it and walking among the reeds. Only then Steve looks at the shore, at the little farm down there, consisting of a small house, outbuildings, and a few animal enclosures. Underneath a large tree sits a knot of kids and in the middle of them is Bucky.

Steve pauses, freezes really, in the middle of a step. M’Tolla doesn’t realize it, she sprints down the hill, shouting her greeting, and all the other children abandon whatever they were doing and run up toward her first and then to Steve, who’s barely aware of them, because all his attention is focused on Bucky. He looks much better than he did the last time Steve saw him, healthier, with a glow on his skin from the sun, the warm browns of his hair richer than ever. He’s wearing a Wakandan outfit, made of bright red and blue fabric, and and Steve already knows his eyes must look more blue than gray due to it. His expression is unreadable, but he hasn’t moved yet either. Perhaps he’s feeling just as frozen as Steve is.

Not that Steve has much of a chance to just look at Bucky; the clamoring children surround him and start tugging him down the hill, taking his bag to carry for him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees there are a couple of cows and several goats in a pen, and some chickens roaming free, but he doesn’t properly look at them, can’t tear his focus from Bucky, who finally rises to his feet when they come closer.

They meet under the shade of the tree, the children clearly recognizing it’s a significant moment, or maybe they’ve been told. Regardless of reasons, they scatter and leave them alone, two paces between them, looking at each other and neither at first able to say anything.

Steve wants nothing more than to close the distance, to wrap his arms around Bucky, but he also doesn’t, because he knows it wouldn’t be right at this precise moment. He’s honest enough to admit to himself that if Bucky were to reject him now it would probably break him. But it’s good just to see Bucky, to be able to take in all the details, to take in the evidence of his improvement and even the hints of peace Steve hasn’t seen since the beginning of the war. They keep staring at each other, and finally Steve decides one of them has to break the silence, because otherwise soon it will be too awkward.

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes soften, and the tiniest smile appears to his face. “Hi, Steve. I’m glad you could come.”

“Of course.” It’s the only answer Steve has, even though he realizes after voicing it that it might appear accusatory, considering it took a while before Bucky was ready to see him, but Bucky clearly takes it the way Steve means, as a recognition of how important this is. Bucky even seems to want to laugh, in a very familiar resigned way, but he’s definitely happy, which in turn makes Steve happier as well.

“Of course. Well, come on, you must be thirsty after the walk.”

Steve falls in step with Bucky, on the side of his missing arm that doesn’t seem to bother him, and they head for the little house. Their meeting was a bit stilted, but it feels right to be here with Bucky, because there will always be a part of Steve that’s never at home anywhere else. There is a lot they need to talk about, many hurdles they have to cross, but Steve thinks they’re ready now, unlike the way they were when they first arrived in Wakanda.

 

* * *

 

Now that Steve is here with him, it’s not exactly awkward, but Bucky certainly can feel how stilted their interaction is. He offers Steve a drink, and then looks from the corner of his eye as Steve slowly takes in his little house. Not that there’s too much to see, since Steve is already familiar with basic Wakandan technology, so the way the appliances are set up probably isn’t too strange. There are little lights embedded in the ceiling and the walls, illuminating the space so that it’s always just right according to the time of day or any of the settings Bucky chooses. He has a small table and a few chairs, and enough shelves on the walls for everything else he needs. There is his pallet with a comfortable mattress and a pile of pillows, his blankets a riot of colors, and a row of books on the shelf above it.

After he asked Shuri to contact Steve, he had considered what to say to him, how to approach their discussion and his uncertainties. He’d finally gotten the best advice from Ayo, one of the Dora Milaje in rotation for guarding Shuri. She had probably become exasperated at his brooding in the corner of Shuri’s lab during one of his visits there, because she had suddenly broken his reverie with, “Just tell him the truth, don’t try to dress it up.” She hadn’t elaborated, and Bucky hadn’t asked for clarification, because he’d know she’d just cut through the mental thickets for him. He would have arrived to the same conclusion finally, although probably not in time for Steve’s current visit, and in result there might have been new complications had they just floundered in the meantime. It’s not so unlikely assumption considering it doesn’t seem Steve is much more prepared than he is to tackle the tangle between them.

There is a curveball, though, one Bucky didn’t know to expect, but that hit him full force when he saw Steve approaching him. Steve looked different, there is a definite weariness in him, something that’s more than understandable, same as the hesitation in his manner of treating Bucky. There are other new things as well, more superficial ones, Steve’s full beard the most obvious one. Bucky hadn’t known Steve could grow one; back before the serum he only needed to shave occasionally, and during the war he’d kept clean-shaven as was appropriate for Captain America. Now his hair is longer than the last time they saw each other, probably not cut in the meantime, and with the beard it gives Steve a new kind of rugged look. It’s only accentuated by his choice of clothes, classic jeans and a checked shirt. It’s new, but the curveball isn’t that Steve looks different. It’s Bucky’s reaction to it.

He’d wondered what his reaction would be when he finally saw Steve, and the fact he froze on the spot for a while had been one of the possibilities he’d considered, but he never could have predicted that the reason would be a sudden rush of attraction. He hadn’t been able to move, because he’d wanted to go to Steve, had wanted to run his hands through Steve’s hair, to rub his face against his beard, and that would have definitely crossed a line, and not just for Steve, but for himself as well. Their meeting had been stilted, with Bucky floundering inside with what to do and say, trying to push through his sudden wants to what was normal for them. It’s still not easy having to deal with the unexpected feelings, even with the surprise worn off it’s still overwhelming. He fusses with the food and drinks, glad for once that doing everything one handed takes more time, and that Steve obeyed when Bucky told him he’d manage, because now it gives him a plausible reason to not talk, to not look at Steve too closely. It allows him to keep the glances brief and unnoticed as he adjusts his thoughts.

It is honestly baffling, and even annoying to suddenly feel this way. It even feels wrong somehow, because Bucky can tell some of it has to do with Steve’s new look, the way Steve seems more dangerous than Bucky’s ever seen before. It’s superficial, and it feels almost like a betrayal, because Steve obviously is so much more, is the most important person in Bucky’s life even with the confusion in his head, even with all the questions he needs to ask. He’s struggling with it, wondering if he shouldn’t have felt like this long before now, and there are no good answers.

Even more annoying is that his thoughts immediately turned to wondering whether Steve might feel the same, which is entirely useless, considering Bucky doesn’t even know how he feels himself, not truly. He’ll need to examine it more closely, and for that he needs calm and time. It would be better to not jump ahead, but his brain is not listening, it’s already lining up questions and observations, and what he sees isn’t disappointing, it’s not the right word, but it’s not that the answer would be a resounding yes either.

As he’s sipping at his drink and looking at Bucky’s things, Steve gradually relaxes. He keeps making observations clearly more out of interest than just needing something other than Bucky occupying him. He smiles occasionally, starts asking questions, and the line of his shoulders loosens. He’s starting to look almost at home already, and a fleeting burst of ache blossoms in Bucky’s chest. He wants something, only he doesn’t yet know what, but he also knows it’s most likely impossible right now.

The tea has finally steeped, and Bucky fortifies himself, picking up the pot and mugs, and asks Steve to bring the plate filled with fruit, nuts and seed cake. They settle outside under the tree again, it’s Bucky’s favorite spot after all, with good sight lines all around. Steve sips at his tea, smiles at Bucky, his eyes happy and friendly as they’ve always been, as much as Bucky remembers anyway. It’s so much better now compared to their achy interactions before he went into ice for the final time, but there’s also nothing new there, no tell of Steve going through similar upheaval that Bucky is.

It’s no use speculating anyway, there are things Bucky wants to talk about with Steve, and they haven’t changed since this morning. He swallows the final bit of cake and puts his mug down, Steve doing the same, clearly realizing this is something important. Bucky draws breath, and decides he might as well plunge right in, the way Ayo suggested.

“I went to the Smithsonian, soon after I got away from Hydra, and it didn’t feel right to me, what they said about us and our friendship. It still doesn’t.”

Steve stares at him, blinking, his mind clearly reeling, looking for words. Bucky waits, and he finds it easier now that he’s brought it up. It depends on Steve now how the discussion will go.

 

* * *

 

It takes a moment during which he probably looks ridiculous gaping at Bucky for Steve to reorient himself, because this is not the conversation he expected to have. He knows what Bucky means, knows exactly why the description of them at the exhibit at the Smithsonian, while factually correct, wasn’t  _ right. _ It’s a feeling he too had when he first saw it, had it every time since then, even when it was still impossible to not go, because it was closer than anything else he had of his past, of Bucky. It had helped too, back when Steve thought Bucky was gone forever, to know that Bucky was remembered, that his heroism wasn’t buried under the weight of years.

Now Bucky is asking, because clearly he feels it too even when he doesn’t quite remember. According to a discussion they had before Steve left Wakanda, his memories from before Hydra are probably all still there, but difficult to access. Once he has remembered something everything connected to it becomes easier to reach, and much of his memories have come back, but not everything. It makes sense he wouldn’t remember this, because there’s nothing, at least that Steve knows of, that would discuss the matter in a way that would give Bucky the necessary lead.

The difficulty is, they never used to talk of the specific nature of their relationship, and now that they’re here it’s difficult to know where to start. On the other hand, it feels right that now that they have to figure out their relationship anew, they should talk of what they had before openly and without restraint. It’s probably necessary; considering everything that has happened since they last truly knew each other, to have a strong relationship they will need to build a whole new foundation to make sure it’ll last.

So, even with words hard to come by and not liking how hesitant he sounds, Steve still tries to explain. “I know what you mean, and it’s because our relationship was a lot more complicated than any of the official sources tell. It’s not that we didn’t care about each other,” Steve hastens to clarify at the first sign of uncertainty on Bucky’s face, not wanting to create new distress even for a moment. “I suppose we just didn’t know how to talk of everything between us, and so we talked around a lot of stuff, assumed the other understood without words. It made things hard sometimes, but I don’t regret a moment I spent with you.”

Bucky looks in front of him, not at anything Steve can see, his mind clearly working as he reaches back in time, probably trying to find the relevant context inside himself, before he shakes his head. “It’s all so muddled, it’s easier to remember specific things that happened. But I think I get it, it’s maybe the same even now. You’re the most important person to me and yet—” 

Steve nods, warmth filling his chest with Bucky’s frank words of his importance. “Yet it’s not always easy to be together. It’s the same for me.”

Bucky gives him a piercing look, stilling completely for a moment, before he relaxes and picks up his mug of tea and takes a sip. The tightness in him that Steve hadn’t even noticed before loosens, and he thinks Bucky really believes him, believes they’re as much on the same page as they can be. A gust of wind flits Bucky’s hair around, and Steve realizes he’s smiling despite the seriousness of their topic. He feels more secure now, even when there’s much to unpack yet. Bucky smiles at him as well, his eyes crinkling and showing unfamiliar lines around them. They’ve been drawn by pain, but Steve hopes in time they’ll be more about happiness, more of laughter than agony.

“I was fretting over this before you arrived, and Ayo finally gave me the best piece of advice. She told me to be honest, and so I asked you of it straight away. But I think maybe we can follow her advice further,” Bucky says.

“I thought of something similar earlier. I think, maybe if we talk about it all, about everything that used to be difficult, in time we will make it better.”

Bucky nods in agreement. “Yes, exactly that.” He lets out a huff of laughter then. “Wouldn’t it be ironic, if we now, with all the baggage we carry, will find it easier to be together than we did before.”

“I want to try at least. Maybe we now have seen enough to understand what matters, the way we couldn’t back then.”

“Got a plan on how to do it then? Because you are after all —” Bucky hums a line of  _ Star Spangled Man _ and nearly spills his tea when Steve makes a grab for him.

Steve tries to pretend being annoyed, but there’s joy soaring through him, because here Bucky’s joking with him, the way Steve has missed. “Of all things to remember. But no,” he sobers, “I’ve no idea how to go about it. I don’t think it’ll work if we just draw a list of topics and start going through them.”

“I don’t think it will, either. Maybe we just have to do what Ayo said, be honest, and whenever something comes up talk of it rather than hide it.”

Steve nods, and leans back on his elbows. It’s a beautiful warm day, and he dares to let himself enjoy it now, hopeful of their future. Bucky sits there, gaze steady and unwavering on him, before he sighs and pours himself more tea.

“It’s strange, the mix of emotions. Sitting with you here feels right in my core like nothing else does, and yet it’s hard too, like I’m poking at a half healed wound.”

Steve has no words for it, nothing beyond what he’s already said, and despite the hopefulness he feels it too, the uncertainty and the ache in his heart. He sits back up again and takes the mug Bucky has refilled for him. He breathes in the scent of the tea and makes a promise to himself and to Bucky even when he doesn’t speak it aloud, that he’ll try his utmost to open up and make it better for the two of them.

 

* * *

 

That night Steve falls asleep almost instantaneously. He probably needs the sleep considering how much stress he must have been under since he became a fugitive, and probably before it too. Bucky well knows his own choices haven’t made things easier for Steve either, and so he’s happy to see that here he’s apparently comfortable enough to relax immediately.

They’re lying next to each other in Bucky’s bed. It’s wide enough to fit them comfortably although it’s impossible to not brush against each other every once in a while. They never discussed the sleeping arrangements, it was obvious to both of them they would share the bed, and getting ready reminded Bucky of dozens of other nights of them doing so together. Even though the environment is completely different, it still feels the most natural thing in the world to be here so close to Steve. The tension he’s been feeling is slowly melting away, and he’s getting glimpses of memories of how tactile they used to be. It’s suddenly something he yearns for, the casual touching that he hasn’t missed since he escaped after D.C. Maybe tomorrow he can try to start getting some of it back.

It’s only now that Steve is sleeping peacefully and Bucky’s still turning around the events of the day in his head that it occurs to him that maybe it should be a little bit odd that they are sharing a bed. Whenever he was asked about it he said Steve would stay with him, and while most of his acquaintances had just gone with it, some had obviously been at least a little surprised. No one had commented, but now that Bucky thinks of it, he understands why it had surprised people, and that he may have given an impression of their relationship he hadn’t intended. He just hadn’t even thought of it, it was Steve, and while there is a multitude of issues between the two of them, he never even considered they’d sleep apart despite the fact that there’s only one bed in his house. It appears Steve hadn’t either, based on his actions.

It is a bit funny actually, because it’s a sign of how utterly comfortable they both feel in Wakanda that neither one of them had tried to be careful of how to present their relationship, unlike they almost always needed to do. Bucky is once more grateful to have been accepted into this haven, and that he now has a chance to reconnect with Steve.

Of course, now with his earlier realization of the new attraction toward Steve, the sleeping situation might potentially be more awkward, but at least for now Bucky’s not feeling it. He does wonder if it is somehow dishonest toward Steve to be lying next to him, harboring the undisclosed feelings. There’s also their joint decision to talk of everything, so maybe Bucky hasn’t made such a good start of it, but it is what it is. There are a lot of things unsaid between the two of them, and he’s not ready at all to talk of this, so it will have to wait. They’ve made a start, but there’s a lot of ground they need to cover yet.

When he thinks back now, with Steve’s words as his guide, with a certainty that his feelings aren’t wrong, he is starting to find pieces of memory, glimpses that reveal new paths for him to examine. He thinks that maybe it was easy between the two of them once, during the childhood which, while not without worries, was still relatively simple. It’s the memories of their teenage years that suggest a strain appearing between the two of them, and now with his newfound attraction he wonders if he’s rediscovering something that was born already decades ago.

He can’t tell yet, but in time he’s confident he’ll know, and this time he won’t bury it, he’ll bring it forth in the end. With that, he turns on his side, draws the blankets closer around himself, and closes his eyes. It only takes a moment for him to relax, timing his breathing along with Steve’s helps with it, and he easily drifts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a lot to consider for Bucky, going forward, and a lot to work through for both of them, because I like putting them through an emotional wringer. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebuilding their foundation starts by working together on regular tasks.

Even though they’d decided to lean on honesty and openness, it didn’t mean they’d immediately dive in and peel back all the layers. On that first morning Bucky wakes up to find Steve lying next to him, clearly having been awake already for a while, looking at him as if to make sure he’s really there. Steve seems refreshed from his sleep, the minute lines of exhaustion Bucky saw the previous day are much fainter, and might disappear altogether after a few similarly peaceful nights, the serum helping Steve to recover if only given a chance.

There’s also a sense of ache around Steve, not physical but mental, and Bucky well understands it, because he feels something similar as well. It’s good to be with Steve, but it also continuously reminds him of all the tender places inside him, the sensitivity only enhanced with their first opening to each other. It’s as if they’re now acknowledging all the wounds they bear that they’ve so far ignored, and now they all hurt, because they’re no longer pretending nothing is wrong.

It’s a shared feeling, they talk a little of it as they make breakfast together and head for morning chores, and while they don’t make any special agreement, it’s still a mutual decision to focus on the daily life for now. Bucky figures it’s probably a good thing, after all they’ve changed since the last time spent any significant amount of time together without some other major concerns, and it makes sense to try and understand the most fundamental changes in each other, such as will be revealed along the daily life. It’ll give some context for the more difficult conversations they must have.

They start with the daily chores of the farm, with Bucky instructing Steve who has no experience with any of this, and everything does go much faster than usual even though his regular helpers are nowhere to be found, because Steve is stronger and thus capable of carrying food for all the goats all at once, for example. Bucky wonders where the kids are, it’s not a school day which usually means there’s a gaggle of them around for almost all day, but comes to a conclusion they’ve probably been told to give the two of them some space. Undoubtedly some of them will pop by during the afternoon at the latest, but for now it’s just Bucky and Steve.

Steve, just as Bucky expected, knows nothing of farm work, but he’s willing to learn, obviously happy to just spend time with Bucky doing something productive and stress-free. Bucky again can’t help but be conscious of the fact that Steve must have been missing him ever since DC, definitely more keenly than Bucky himself did, considering there have been significant stretches of time when he felt disconnected from everything. It’s not that he didn’t miss Steve, of course he did, but he had the consolation that when it came to the two of them, Bucky has mostly been able to choose the course they’re on. On the other hand Steve for the most part has been left hanging, unsure of what to wish for. Bucky knows they can’t stick together full time from now on, Steve won’t stay because his sense of duty will draw him out, and Bucky can’t go. Not yet, not unless the world is about to end. Still, he resolves to keep to their bargain, he knows it’ll help the both of them, and he vows to himself he’ll keep reaching out to Steve, will show that he does care for real.

It starts with working together, and the feeling is so familiar and yet difficult to place, so Bucky asks, “Why do I feel like I’ve done something like this before? I can’t remember us ever working together back in Brooklyn.”

Steve pauses and leans on the shovel, keeping an eye on the goats around him. “We didn’t work together back then, but we did spend a lot of time with each other, and lived together too, so it’s probably partly that, and the rest of it is the war. After all, that’s when we did work together, even though it was nothing like this.”

“Right, I didn’t even think of that.” Bucky shakes his head, wanting to almost laugh at the ridiculousness of forgetting their teamwork during the war. Now that Steve has said it, he thinks it probably was the biggest connection.

“I much prefer this, even with the goats,” Steve says, again glancing around him, and this time Bucky does laugh out of pure amusement.

Steve is willing to learn the farm chores, it’s true, but he’s not nearly as comfortable as Bucky is at it, and he’s obviously a bit wary around the animals. It doesn’t surprise Bucky, because he has an impression that even before the war, while Steve took any job people would give him, he definitely preferred those that allowed him to stay neat and indoors. He hadn’t minded the charcoal and paint smudges that came with the art, but anything else he’d felt definite aversion to. Bucky’s fairly sure he’d believed the reason was how prone to illnesses Steve was, especially since he never shied from anything during the war, he waded right into the mud and blood along with everyone else. Now it’s funny to see the same sort of fussiness Steve clearly works to suppress, because apparently it always was just Steve and nothing more. Bucky doesn’t want to unpack why it’s different when he’s fighting, how he never minded even before the war the inevitable messiness of wading into a fight. That line of thought will only lead Bucky thinking of the aspects of Steve’s personality and sense of duty that are difficult to handle for him, and he doesn’t want to put energy in it right now. Instead he just enjoys the day and only herds the goats at Steve every once in a while.

Bucky was always interested in both practical knowledge and the more theoretical concepts. He remembers he worked as a mechanic for a while, he’d been fascinated to find out how machines worked, had relished being allowed to take things apart and fix them himself, he’d enjoyed the sense of satisfaction that working with his hands brought, but he’d wanted to know more about the theory as well. He’d sometimes dreamed of studying engineering, but it hadn’t been practical for him when he was of the appropriate age. These days he’s learned about the farm work in practice, while doing it, but he’s also read about it. He has books on soil composition and biodiversity, and he has been spiraling into genetics from there. He also regularly gets to talk with Shuri, who’s still monitoring his recovery, and they always discuss other things as well, Wakandan technology and Shuri’s most recent innovations. When Bucky told her he wanted to study engineering before the war, she pointed out to him that he still could. It’s probably true, and Bucky thinks he might even consider it once he’s a bit more at balance with himself and Steve, and when his brain is recovered enough he doesn’t have to worry about overexertion.

That morning filled with farm chores sets the tone for the next few days; they spend almost all the time together, working at Bucky’s farm or on the communal tasks of the village. Bit by bit Steve gets to know Bucky’s neighbors, he starts picking up the language with a facility Bucky remembers from the front, the way he gained bits and pieces of French, German, and Russian. One afternoon they visit Shuri and T’Challa in the capital, and Bucky shows Steve around there as well. He notes Steve looking at the sights with a familiar considering expression, his hands twitching as if he’s reaching for paper and pencil, but he doesn’t actually draw anything. Bucky has seen the sketchbook in Steve’s bag, but so far he hasn’t taken it out, and Bucky doesn’t quite know how to ask about it, because it’s such a foreign concept that Steve wouldn’t just be taking every spare moment to draw.

Bucky keeps looking at Steve, the same as he’s sure Steve does as well, comparing the man next to him to his memories, cataloging what is familiar and what is new. He finds things to worry about, as well as things that reassure him. Something he doesn’t need days for to understand is that Steve is still Steve, at the core he’s still the same, still someone Bucky feels connected to right in his core. There are some rough edges between the two of them, maybe there always were, and they catch and scrape, but Bucky is confident it’ll get better in time.

The only real problem he has is that even in Wakanda, in the safest place in the world, he still finds it hard to believe in permanence and that they will have the time they need. He’s seen so many times before how easy it is for things to change.

 

* * *

 

After nine days with Bucky Steve would have had a hard time describing how he felt if someone were to ask, because on one hand, he’s happier than he remembers being since he woke up in that fake recovery room in New York. Happier than for a long time before that, really, because while being Captain America had made him feel like he had a purpose, war had been an unending chain of horrors. On the other hand, he rather feels like he’s been flayed open, and both of those feelings come from being near Bucky. They haven’t been doing anything that special, they’ve worked around the village and visited the people they know, but there’s no need for anything dramatic. It’s just the continuous presence of Bucky’s that does it. Steve wouldn’t change it for anything, even with the ache that’s hard to describe, because it’s as if something that’s been festering inside him has finally been exposed to air. It hurts, but it can now be cleaned, and afterward he can hopefully start to heal.

The work itself at the farm or most task they do at the village don’t count as Steve’s new favorite thing, although he does get a sense of satisfaction from it, being able to immediately see the results of his efforts and to have the knowledge it helps the community. A lot of what he does these days bears only very uncertain results, especially down the line, and the straightforwardness of the village life makes for a nice balance.

He likes visiting the city, he is endlessly fascinated by the design and the use of space there. Steve sometimes thinks he might like to draw some particularly striking parts of the city, but for now he’s content to watch. It feels more like a place he’d like to settle at, but now he wouldn’t stay for all the riches in the world, not as long as Bucky is living in the village. He’s here to see Bucky, and he’s happiest to spend every minute of the day at a close proximity, not to mention he’s slept better than in ages now with Bucky right next to him.

It’s probably incredibly self-centered, but the truth is that Steve’s favorite thing about Wakanda is that Bucky is safe there. And more than that, he’s clearly cared for, even happy by all appearances, and seeing it gives Steve a sense of peace, it soothes the hurt and worry he’s felt ever since he realized Bucky had been alive all this time. To see Bucky interacting with his neighbors, with Shuri and her group in the city makes Steve’s heart almost burst with fullness, because after everything he’s been through Bucky has found a place of peace and safety, somewhere he can heal.

His reaction is not fully uncomplicated, a fact that Steve thinks he only acknowledges even to himself because of the resolution they made with Bucky to be honest with each other. It means he’ll have to be honest with himself first and foremost, and it’s not always exactly pleasant. Right now he can see the self-centered streak in himself that sees Bucky being happy in Wakanda, and aches because it has been achieved without his presence. It is quite a horrible instinct, because obviously it should be enough that Bucky is happy, regardless of the means, but clearly his baser feelings haven’t caught up on that yet. Steve knows that usually he’d try to squash it immediately, wouldn’t even think of it, but now he makes himself face it, makes himself acknowledge the ugly parts of himself. It doesn’t change anything, he can’t just make the feeling disappear, but it’s something at least.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and goes to Bucky who’s calling him to a knot of villagers working in the shade of a tree. They’re weaving baskets out of long grasses to store and carry things with, and it turns out that for people as inexperienced as he and Bucky are, three hands is just the right amount to keep everything in place, and while the result of their efforts isn’t the prettiest, it at least will serve its purpose. They work together, Steve sitting cross-legged on the ground, Bucky leaning against his back, reaching around to help with his right hand, sometimes resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. The discussion around is conducted in Xhosa for the most part, which means that Steve only catches the bare bones of it, but he’s content to work and listen, the previous unease quelled for now by Bucky’s body resting against his.

It’s familiar, the easy physical contact, because before the war it was very common for them to lean on each other, or to walk down the street with Bucky’s arm thrown across Steve’s shoulders. After Steve found Bucky at the Hydra compound in Austria, Bucky had been more withdrawn, he’d kept a distance from Steve, and it had been even more pronounced since Bucharest up until he went into ice here in Wakanda. That day Steve had to stick his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Bucky, because he had been desperate to embrace him for at least once, and it had been obvious Bucky wasn’t ready for it. Even when he arrived just a little over a week ago at least part of the distance had still been there, they hadn’t known how to touch each other. The barrier had begun to fall away that night, when it had been obvious for both of them they’d sleep next to each other. From the next morning Bucky had started to rapidly become more comfortable with closeness, had appeared determined to make it so, and now it’s almost as if nothing has changed, even when everything has.

When they’re done with the first basket that turns out only slightly asymmetrical, Bucky steps away for a moment while Steve starts sorting out the materials for the next one. Amara, the woman who’s been instructing them, grins at him as soon as Bucky is out of earshot.

“It is good that you came, I’ve never seen him smile like he does with you here,” she says before continuing her own work even while Steve keeps staring at her.

After a moment he looks down to his task, pursing his mouth at himself, because that was a swift counter, even if not intentional, to his jealousy, which obviously is just as unfounded as he in his rational brain knew. And it’s more than a little bit funny that now that he knows that it’s obvious to those around that Bucky is better with him here, he’s a bit chagrined that Bucky hasn’t been as happy all the time. Clearly his instincts have forgotten all reason, he concludes to himself and smiles, shaking his head a little.

“What’s that face for?” Bucky asks as he suddenly appears and plops down to his former seat, his warmth soothing even in the heat of the day.

“Nothing important, I was just being stupid in my head.” 

“Well, nothing new there,” Bucky says. Steve glances at him, catching the mischievous grin but also understanding. While he can’t know what Steve was thinking exactly, he probably does know that Steve is continuously working through his own issues. Bucky tips his forehead down on Steve’s shoulder for a second, and then grins at him again.

“At least admitting it is a step toward right direction. Come on, let’s make more baskets so you can be useful at least.”

***

As the days pass in Wakanda, Steve would say he’s definitely happy despite the underlying difficulties. While it’s probably nothing to brag about in grand scale, might even be considered pathetic by some, for him it’s hugely significant, because it’s been a while since he last considered himself happy, with or without qualifiers. He has also come to the realization that however sincere the intentions, it’s incredibly hard to open up, to talk to Bucky about deeper things than just their daily life, because he’s not used to it. He never was the most open person to begin with, and ever since he woke up in the future he’s been guarding himself even more carefully, and old habits are hard to break. He finds lines of thought, things he could take up with Bucky, but the words are like ashes in his mouth, and he only manages to talk of the work they’re doing, or their dinner, or the antics of the kids. It’ll take a while, it seems, but he hasn’t lost hope yet.

Instead, he focuses on Bucky, getting to know him the way he is now. It’s important, because he’s Bucky, but he’s different too, and Steve relishes the possibility he now has to find out again the minutest aspects of Bucky’s personality. Every day gives him new insight into who Bucky is now and how his mind works, what things are important and what less so. He knows it’s probably odd how much time he spends just observing Bucky while they do their work, how much time he spends just looking at Bucky and how he does his best to never be more than a few steps away. He knows it’s not exactly normal; it’s probably a result of having spent so long missing Bucky, so long not knowing where and how he was, that now with the opportunity he’s more clingy than he probably should be. At least Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, he too appears to be seeking Steve’s company and closeness, and besides, he’ll have to leave again soon enough, there’s still work for him to do, so he doesn’t try too hard weaning himself out of the behavior.

One afternoon they’re sitting outside under the tree again, all the chores of the day finished well before the night. Steve is supposedly reading, although he’s spent far more time watching Bucky than his book. Bucky’s focusing on his holoscreen, doing a puzzle that’s part of the brain monitoring program Shuri created for him. Steve is not worried about it, Shuri and Bucky both have assured him everything is going well. He just enjoys seeing Bucky so quietly concentrated, completely in peace.

He keeps staring even when Bucky finishes and waves the screen away, looking up at Steve. “What’s so fascinating?”

“Just you,” Steve says, and it comes out horribly sincere and vulnerable, so he has to make a joke of it. “So nothing much, I suppose.” As soon as the words come out he regrets them, because while it’s the kind of thing they used to say in jest to each other all the time, what’s in between them these days is more brittle than their friendship used to be, and Steve doesn’t want Bucky to have even a glimmer of doubt over whether he’s important. 

It appears Bucky understood exactly what he meant, though, because the anxiety hasn’t managed to fully bloom in Steve’s chest before it’s dispelled by Bucky’s wide grin. “You keep telling yourself that.” As he speaks the grin turns into a smaller smile, softer than the mirth displayed earlier, the fondness obvious in Bucky’s eyes. Steve is captured by it, unable to look away, and he reaches out and lightly brushes his fingers over Bucky’s arm, just to make sure he’s really there, that this is not just a wonderful dream.

Bucky flops down on his back and pokes at Steve’s knee. “Come on, read me some.”

Steve blinks and looks down at his book. There’s no reason to decline, and he turns back to start from the beginning. After all, he didn’t get that far along, and he doesn’t really remember what he read anyway.

***

Steve remembers Bucky always took pride in his work, he wanted to be good at his job at the repair shop and used to put more effort in it than many of his peers, which means the owner had loved him and allowed him to get in on the more interesting projects. Now though, it’s a little bit different, and it takes Steve a while to realize why. It’s because Bucky now reminds him of himself back before the war when it comes to work. Back then Steve used to take whatever jobs he could get, there obviously were those he liked less than others, but no matter how unpleasant, he’d still do them, because it often was the only opportunity he had, and he didn’t want to be any more of a burden than he already was. Not that Bucky ever considered him one, but fact is things would have been easier for Bucky on many fronts had he not been Steve’s friend.

Back then Bucky took his pride in job well done, but he had no interest in things he didn’t care about, not that much interest in any kind of volunteering for boring tasks just to help the community. Now Bucky takes every task he’s offered, actively asks if he can help, and Steve recognizes this need to be of use, to prove himself he can help, that he can do something valuable for this peaceful society. It clearly ties into Bucky’s sense of self-worth the same way that work had been important for Steve back when he was sickly. Bucky wants to support himself, and he wants to give back for the kindness he’s received, Steve understands it well. He knows too, that the Wakandans don’t think Bucky owes them anything, but he never takes it up with Bucky, because he knows it already, and it doesn’t matter. Bucky still has to do this, and working is probably good for him in any case.

These days Steve himself has less intense need to prove himself, but he finds calmness and peace working next to Bucky, even when some of the tasks aren’t things he’d say he enjoys. Instead, it just doesn’t matter so much, not when they can be together.

 

* * *

 

“I like doing this with you,” Bucky says, making his voice soft enough to be only heard by Steve, his hand following the pattern of the task without a pause.

They’re making baskets again, larger now, and Bucky is once more leaning on Steve. He has hooked his chin over Steve’s shoulder mostly just to maximize contact, and was gratified when Steve apparently instinctively leaned back toward him as well. There’s a new joy in crafts for him now that he can do them with Steve who clearly enjoys the work. Before now Bucky sometimes had help from the kids, but they tend to get easily bored, and so Bucky hasn’t wanted to ask too much of them. With Steve he can learn something new he couldn’t do with just one hand, and furthermore he enjoys spending time together like this. It’s easy in the end to tell Steve so. It’s part of trying out the new openness as well, skirting at the side of his attraction that he isn’t ready to talk about yet.

“It’s nice to learn something new,” Steve says, echoing Bucky’s thoughts, as they move into a complicated braiding pattern. They manage it just fine, but Bucky can’t fathom how everyone else does it with just two hands.

Making baskets is more Steve’s speed really, as opposed to the regular farm tasks for example, with creativity and patience in the detail being something Steve has always excelled at. Steve still hasn’t taken his sketchbook out of his bag, and Bucky now understands it’ll take a while for him to get there, but at least he’s doing something similar again. Bucky has let Steve choose the colors of the grasses and twine they use, as well as the patterns. He’s just happy to make things, happy to see Steve really paying attention and considering the beauty as well as usefulness of the end result.

“I’m just glad you’re not walking around looking like you consider yourself having failed somehow since you couldn’t do this by yourself,” Amara says, and flashes a gentle smile at him. “It’s what community is for, we all do what we can and help others with the tasks they can’t manage.”

“Yes, of course, but—” Bucky starts to protest, but pauses when he feels Steve shaking from held back laughter. “What’s so funny to you?”

The question has barely come out of his mouth before he already knows, he remembers having had a similar discussion, a lot of them really, with Steve back before the war. Steve had been adamant to work, adamant to contribute, and Bucky suddenly understands it, knows how he must have felt, because it’s the same for him now. It’s not self-evident yet for him that he’s a useful member of the community. He rationally knows what he contributes, but the feeling of uncertainty is still there, and it’s what makes him work hard and try to help with everything he can. It’s not a hardship, he’s proud of his new skills and knowledge, happy whenever he does something good. It’s helping him along even during the tough days, and it must have been important for Steve too, to prove he could be a useful member of society when so many people told him at every turn that he wasn’t worth anything. The difference between the two of them is that in Steve’s case the world was putting him down back in the day, in Bucky’s case it’s just himself.

“It’s not important what we can do,” Amara says, her eyes again on her work, hands moving at least four times faster than Bucky and Steve can manage. “Just that we are.”

It’s not a new sentiment, Bucky’s heard it before, but now with his remembrance of Steve and his fight for self-worth, it gets a new meaning. Before the war Bucky struggled and never really succeeded in making Steve believe he was enough just as he was, no need to prove himself, and now he has to admit that if it was enough for Steve just to be a person, then he should afford himself the same. It’s something he knows he’ll struggle with moving forward, but it’s a step to have even acknowledged it.

“I hear you,” he says, and Steve glances at him, smiling but clearly also bearing some inner conflict. It’s obvious Steve too struggles with it still, but he nods at Bucky in acknowledgment, and perhaps it is a promise, an agreement that they both will try to believe it for themselves.

***

They get three weeks before Steve has to leave again. He doesn’t talk much about what he does when he’s not in Wakanda, only that he’s with Natasha, Sam, and Wanda, which is a good thing in Bucky’s book. He just doesn’t know if Steve is leaving again because they have something urgent in the horizon, or that he has a hard time lying low when there are potential threats lurking in the world in the form of hiding Hydra, no matter whether urgent or not. It might be a little bit of both.

Obviously Bucky will miss him, not to mention he’ll worry over all the potential dangers, all of them more real now that he’s spent time with Steve again, now that Steve is real and tangible in his mind rather than just a memory. On the other hand, separation may help him sort out his feelings for Steve and dig deeper into the memories the way that has been difficult while Steve has been there, because Bucky hasn’t wanted to live anywhere but in the current moment.

Steve packs his things efficiently and fast enough that it’s clear he’s developed a routine for it, but before he zips up the bag he hesitates, and after a few seconds pulls out his sketchbook and a set of pencils, and brings them to Bucky.

“Ever since I woke up from the ice I have only made occasional doodles, nothing that I would call drawing. I haven’t known how to do it, and I’m not sure if I do even now. But here I’ve felt like I want to try, and while there’s nothing in this book yet, I now believe there will be. So, will you keep it for me here? When I come back I’ll try and work on it.”

Bucky takes the book and the pencils, smiling, and sets them down on the shelf that holds all his important things. As soon as his hand is free, he steps closer and hauls Steve in for a hug, clinging tightly, and relishing in how Steve does the same.

“You better stay safe out there,” Bucky says, and tucks his face into the skin of Steve’s neck, breathing him in.

“I promise,” Steve says, and Bucky knows he means in the scale he has for himself, which is terribly reckless for many others, but it’s better than it could be. There have been times when Steve answered such requests by pointing out how important what he was about to do was, as if his own safety was of no concern in comparison. Bucky will take it for what it is, he’ll have to let Steve go, but not before clinging to him for a moment more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some honest introspection going on, they’ll get to sharing more soon as well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another visit, and some more confiding in each other.

In a funny way Bucky misses Steve both more and less than he expected after he’s gone. He had considered their previous experiences of being apart, what he remembered of the time after he’d shipped out for war and Steve was still back in the US, and drawn his expectations from there. What he’d failed to take into account was the possibility of being in close contact with modern technology, and how it would affect things.

They can’t call each other whenever; there are time zones to consider, and sometimes Steve and his team are in places or situations where they have to keep transmissions at minimum or none at all, but they do keep in regular contact via texts and calls. Whenever the connection is good, which is happily more than half the time, they even do video calls. It’s good to be able to regularly see Steve, or at the very least hear his voice; it makes it easier for Bucky to believe he is indeed fine, and alleviates the ache of being apart. It also makes the missing more acute on occasion, because it’s still not the same as having Steve right there with him, it feels almost like promising him something he can’t have after all. All in all, Bucky vastly prefers it to sending letters without knowing whether they’d find their way home, and getting back ones that referred to things in other letters he hadn’t received. Or alternately not getting any messages at all.

If it’s quiet at Steve’s end, and they’re lying low, Steve’s team mates occasionally come to say hello to him, and whoever happens to be near Bucky often wants to talk to Steve too. Additionally it hasn’t been just once or twice that their friends have ended up talking to each other, with Bucky and Steve grinning at each other from the sidelines. The most heartwarming exchange between their friends is when Bucky and Shuri are chatting with Steve, and Wanda, who usually is very hesitant to talk to the Wakandans due to the guilt she still carries, comes to Steve. She looks much like a deer in headlights, but Shuri manages to ease her.

“I’ve made a conscious effort to put blame where it belongs, and in this case it’s on the asshole who brought the bomb,” she says, face unusually serious. “And besides, if feeling like we should have done more in time of crisis was a mortal offense, a lot of us should point the blame on ourselves, and that doesn’t seem productive.”

“Hear, hear,” Steve says and tucks Wanda under his arm. She looks relieved, and in a moment is comfortably chatting with the three of them. All in all Bucky considers it a good afternoon.

Bucky doesn’t properly know Steve’s friends yet, but he knows enough to be grateful that Steve has each of them, because they’re genuinely good for him, they help him the way he also always does his best to help and support them. Bucky has an impression from his scattered memories that back before the war Steve didn’t have that many close friendships, and so it’s good that he’s connected with people who clearly care about him, not the title that’s forfeited now. Bucky hopes he too will get to know them properly in time, better than one can over occasional video chats and the brief encounters they’ve had. He knows he used to know Natasha back when she was still with the Red Room, but they’re no longer the same people they were back then, so it doesn’t really count.

It is nice though, that the same as Steve is getting to know the people Bucky has come to consider his community, his friends, he’s now getting to know Steve’s friends, and that the groups are even forming small ties beyond the two of them. All of the connections bring the two of them closer together as well, forming a little network that feels like safety.

When he considers their networks of past and present, Bucky can’t help but also consider his and Steve’s friendship both then and now. In the past Steve was his best friend, but it was more than that, Steve was always more special than any other friend Bucky had, so much so that the word friend always felt inadequate, even before there were any more complicated feelings mixed with it. Bucky remembers he sometimes used to describe Steve only by his name, because there really was a category in his mind that was just Steve, separate and above all his other friends. During their childhood their friendship had been easy, they’d just wanted to live in each other’s pockets without needing to consider what it would mean.

It was during their teenage years when things became trickier. They still cared about each other as much as ever, were still all in for each other, and yet the ease of childhood had melted away. There were gaps and hesitations, unspoken words hanging between them. Bucky understands now that he felt physical attraction toward Steve back then as well, only he’d clamped down on it hard.

“I don’t think I knew back then that I loved him, or more precisely I didn’t understand exactly how I loved him,” Bucky says to Ayo one afternoon when he’s at the lab and she’s on guard duty. Shuri is working some distance away, completely focused and probably not paying attention to their conversation, although Bucky doesn’t mind if she’s listening. He knows she’ll keep his secrets, even when she’ll more than likely tease him mercilessly about this one.

“It can be like that sometimes,” Ayo says, her voice laconic but Bucky catches a hint of softness in her eyes, and he takes it as a confirmation of what he’s assumed about her connection with a fellow warrior Aneka. 

There’s no need to say anything else, and it’s one of the reasons Bucky often finds himself confiding in Ayo; she’s straightforward and even gruff sometimes, but she also seems to know exactly the right thing to say, and even more keenly she understands when it’s better to stay silent. She’s one of the Dora Milaje it’s harder to get a read on, but Bucky thinks they are friends by now.

Returning to his memories of Steve, Bucky can’t help but think that even though they always understood each other fairly well, they weren’t very good at consistently saying the right thing or acting the right way, and because of their closeness they ended up occasionally hurting each other. They didn’t hold a grudge after the incidents, at least Bucky didn’t and he doesn’t think Steve did either, even when they never really talked about it either. In retrospect, it might have helped with not inflicting hurts on each other if they had talked honestly about everything, but it’s easy to say now.

They didn’t really get better with it as they grew into adulthood. Bucky remembers very clearly sitting in a bar, surrounded by men in uniform, his best friend still almost alien in his new form that was taller than Bucky. That night he’d been in pain in more than one way, due to what he’d recently been been through as Hydra’s prisoner, due to the humiliation of being ignored by the woman who only had eyes for Steve, and due to Steve clearly welcoming her sentiment. He’d wanted to spread the pain out, he can admit it now. He’d said something about turning into Steve, and underlying there had been something Bucky had never thought himself but that he’d then implied anyway; the common opinion people had held that Steve from before hadn’t been worth all that much. Steve had given back as well as he’d got, suggesting that maybe Peggy had a sister, not letting his feathers be ruffled, and it had annoyed Bucky even more. He’d left then, gone to the barracks to sleep and to try and forget, but it had been in vain. The next day they’d started planning for their new mission, and he and Steve had again been as close as ever, the non-argument pushed away, but still very much there.

His ringtone alerts him up from his musings, and when he accepts the video call there’s Steve, clearly somewhere safe because he’s outside in a garden of sorts.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you back before,” Bucky blurts out before Steve even gets a greeting in, and sees from the corner of his eye that Ayo is clearly stifling laughter.

“Okay?” Steve says, obviously confused. “What brought this on?”

“Just, I’ve been remembering, and it felt like the right thing to say. You said it yourself, it wasn’t always the easiest between us, back in time.”

Steve scratches at the back of his head while looking at Bucky. “I mean yeah, you’re right, it wasn’t. But you should know I never carried a grudge, so it’s okay. And I’m sorry too, I distinctly remember many occasions I didn’t behave well at all toward you.”

“I never held grudge either. It’s, at the moment it was sometimes hard, but I always put it away.”

“Yeah, it was the same for me. Maybe it would have prevented some recurring things if we had talked about them, but it was what it was.” Steve shrugs, the camera moving with it, before changing the topic. “Did you have your head scanned again? I see you’re in the lab.”

“Yep, brain came all clear, Shuri says she’ll make them less frequent from now since there have been no complications.”

“That’s great!” Steve’s smile is blinding, Bucky can almost feel the warmth of it.

“Are you guys all safe?”

“We are, laying low for a bit while we wait for intelligence to come through. If it goes like we expect, this should be done in a few weeks, and we can take some time off. I could come visit again?”

The last part comes out more of a question than Bucky expected, but then again even with how well the last visit went, Steve only came after Bucky had asked him to, and he probably still needs some reassurance after the last couple of years. “Yeah, I’d like that. Besides, the goats have missed you.”

“That’s not exactly mutual,” Steve mutters, but grins again when Bucky bursts into laughter.

 

* * *

 

It’s an early morning when Steve arrives in Wakanda, and he catches a ride to Bucky’s village along with a delivery of provisions they don’t produce locally. He walks the rest of the way to Bucky’s farm, toward the rising sun, and as he crests the hill he’s momentarily blinded by the glow of light reflecting off the lake. Immediately when he can see again, he feels like he’s overwhelmed by an entirely different light.

Bucky is standing by the water, his back toward Steve. He’s wearing only a towel around his hips, and he’s reaching up with his one hand, stretching after his morning swim. Beads of moisture are glistening on his skin, and he’s almost glowing under the rising sun. He seems so well and healthy that even the scarring around his shoulder that Steve can see even from this far away doesn’t appear as devastating as it did right after they arrived in Wakanda, because now Steve can find it in himself to believe in healing with the obvious evidence in front of his eyes.

It’s as if he’s blinded by the glow of Bucky, everything else is certainly disappearing, but his eyes are opening too. It doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, it doesn’t feel like one, but instead it’s something that’s been there at the back of his mind for a while and it’s just that he finally understands. Bucky has always been so very important to him, but now Steve knows why he so desperately hoped every time he called that the connection would be good enough for a video call. It hadn’t been just about contacting Bucky, he’d wanted to see him, the warmth in his eyes, the curve of his lips. Now Steve’s eyes follow the curves of Bucky’s body, not yet as familiar as they used to be, and there’s a mix of excitement and dread in his stomach.

He now recognizes that it is want, searing and overwhelming, but familiar as well. It’s been with him for a while now, but in relative term it’s new, because Steve is sure it was born here in Wakanda during his last visit, only he didn’t notice it then. It’s only the absence in between that has sharpened it enough that now at his return he finally can see it. He wants Bucky, wants all of him, wants his company and friendship and devotion, but he also wants to feel Bucky’s body against his, wants to put his hands and mouth on every inch of him, wants to hear the sounds he’d make and find the things he’d like.

Steve is in the middle of the realization when Bucky turns and sees him, pausing on his tracks and just staring at him, appearing just as struck by something as Steve feels. It’s what allows him to get moving again, this mirroring image of Bucky frozen, because Steve wants to see Bucky’s expression, wants to see his eyes. He suddenly thinks that not only does he want something new, but that he might not be the only one.

The thought has barely flashed into his mind before he’s already pushing it away, because he’s not ready to deal with it. He’s not sure he’s ready to deal with the realization that his own feelings are not what he’s always considered them to be, let alone that Bucky would reciprocate them. It’s too huge, too momentous, and right now is not the best time for self-reflection, considering he’s just arrived and Bucky’s waiting for him down by the lake.

Steve notes the shift in Bucky’s body language, his shoulders drawing up, chin tilting down, and he makes himself walk forward more briskly, he doesn’t want Bucky to think he’s hesitating for the wrong reasons, doesn’t want the insecurity that’s clearly trying to take hold of Bucky get any further. Bucky stands his ground, and after the brief show of hesitation he obviously steels himself, relaxing his shoulders and looking at Steve straight in the eyes. A warmth takes over Steve’s heart, because it’s Bucky through and through, stubbornness rivaling his own, even though it manifests in different ways, and with it the turmoil inside him is pushed back. He’ll have to deal with it, but now is not the time, not when they’re together again.

He grins as he comes closer to Bucky, calling out his greeting as soon as the distance doesn’t require him yelling it, and Bucky relaxes, a smile breaking out on his face as well. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, something Steve has always known but that means so much more suddenly. A few paces away he drops his bag and walks right into Bucky, right into a hug, and he doesn’t even try to make it brief and casual. Instead he allows himself to cling, wrapping his arms so tightly around Bucky it would be uncomfortable for anyone else. Bucky settles a hand at the back of his head, holding him close in return with a gesture that now registers as oddly intimate, unlike during their previous exchanges. Steve is going to have to think about it, but for now he allows himself to just enjoy it.

“Your beard tickles,” Bucky finally says, and Steve lets out a brief laughter before he extricates himself. There indeed is a faint reddish mark on Bucky’s shoulder where he hooked his chin.

“Sorry. I’d shave, but it helps me be less recognizable.”

“Only until you punch someone I’m sure.” Bucky grins, but the smile becomes even warmer as he continues. “No need to shave, though, it suits you. I like it.”

The last part is said very deliberately, as if Bucky really wants Steve to know his opinion of the beard, and Steve can’t help but flush at the words, because they insinuate that Bucky likes his looks, or at least part of them.

It’s probably horribly shallow of him, Steve thinks as they walk back toward Bucky’s house. In the grand scheme of things their appearance is nothing important, it bears no weight in how much he cares about Bucky that he’s beautiful, nor should it boost his confidence to know Bucky likes his looks, but it’s all still meaningful. Bucky’s looks are not the reason Steve wants him, but they’re certainly something he appreciates, and obviously they helped him realize what he wants. It’s new, and as he settles in while Bucky dresses he has a hard time deciding where to look, there’s an awkwardness at the back of his mind again about how to deal with all this. At least he doesn’t have to feel guilty about it, Steve knows well he might, there’s a part of him that already raised the question of whether Bucky’s more solid appearance was somehow a deciding factor, but every other part of Steve responded with a resounding no.

They have breakfast together, sitting next to each other, and Steve lets himself drift close to Bucky, lets his hand linger if it happens to come in contact with Bucky, who for his part seems to seek touch as well. It’s been several long weeks since Steve last visited, and they have changed again in the meantime, but being together is easy as breathing.

***

It throws Steve that this second visit is different, and not only because of his realization of how he feels about Bucky. It’s starts predictably enough; he helps Bucky with the farm chores again, reads a book with him after lunch under the tree, and goes and helps with the construction of a new house in the village during the afternoon. It’s all just as he expected, but maybe his newly found feelings make him more aware of Bucky moving about his world, or maybe it’s just that this time he can spare attention to other things besides just the two of them, because he’s no longer subconsciously fearing Bucky will disappear again.

This time he pays more attention to the community around Bucky. He has been allowed into it as well, but while it’s true that everyone greets him warmly and is obviously happy to see him, it’s also obvious that he’s still an outsider while Bucky has been made a part of the community. It’s not a surprise, intellectually it’s what should have happened, but what Steve stumbles with is a sudden ache inside himself, the pang of loneliness that comes with it.

He works at the building, holding up the heavy beams, lifting things that he can manage more easily than the others, and he occasionally glances back at Bucky and can’t help but notice his relaxed interactions with everyone around. He talks to everyone, young and old, as happy and outgoing as he used to be. Now that Steve pays attention to it, there’s an obvious lack of a layer of politeness that’s directed at him, more than would result just from the language barrier.

It’s like a rock settling deep inside his stomach, weighing his spirits down, and Steve tries to dispel it, to chat with those around him and answer questions, but clearly he doesn’t manage hiding his discomfort, because when the frame of the house is up Bucky suggests they leave, saying he looks tired. Steve readily agrees, telling him he’s stayed up a lot recently, which is even true, just not the reason for him being down right now, and it’s a relief to walk back just with Bucky.

Steve is fully aware there’s a lot of ugliness in the tangle of feelings around everything he saw this day. He should be unconditionally happy that Bucky is part of a community, that he’s been accepted and is supported. Steve has no right to resent it, considering he hasn’t even been here, hasn’t been able to give the kind of support Bucky needs. In truth, he is happy, it’s an honest feeling, but there are layers in it that he doesn’t like, layers that are saying things about him that he’d rather were not true.

Back at the house Bucky gently bullies Steve into getting to bed, sitting on the other half with his book, apparently content to stay close. Steve relaxes almost in spite of himself, and starts drifting toward sleep. It must do away with some of his barriers, because he finds himself confessing to Bucky, maybe not everything, but at least some of what has been crowding his mind.

“You’re all too good for me, Buck.”

Bucky barks out a surprised laughter, letting his book fall on his lap as he looks down at Steve with disbelief. “That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, and that’s definitely something, the competition is very stiff.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve insists, even when he knows he’s too tired to make a proper argument. “You don’t know the ugly thoughts that my head cooks up.”

Immediately after saying the words he closes his eyes and buries his face in the sheets for good measure, and Bucky doesn’t press him even when Steve can feel his gaze on himself. He falls asleep soon after, and wakes up feeling like no time has passed, but clearly it’s not true, since it’s fully dark and Bucky is asleep next to him.

For a moment Steve just looks at Bucky, thinking back to the dream he just had before waking. It was a fairly useful dream, because it at least helped him understand the tangle of resentment and jealousy that had stolen over him during the previous afternoon. It had been more of a memory really, taking him back to the time before the war; a time when Bucky had been popular, outgoing and comfortable with everyone. Then too he’d had a bunch of friends, he’d been a part of a community while Steve had been left standing in the fringes. Back then he’d never admitted it even to himself, but he’d been afraid, because Bucky had had all those people who wanted to be with him, while Steve had only had Bucky. He’d had so much to lose, and it hadn’t helped with the feeling that it made no sense for someone like Bucky to be friends with Steve.

Even then it had been unfair of him toward Bucky to think he’d ever give Steve up, to even consider such disloyalty, and it’s even more unfair these days. Yet it seems to be the same again as it used to be; when the two of them are part of a crowd here in Wakanda, Steve feels so much more alone. He can’t help but wonder if it was the same for Bucky after Bucharest, during those few hours they spent in the company of the Avengers. He hopes it wasn’t.

He rubs at his eyes and curls up on his side, trying to clear his mind again. He remembers what he said to Bucky just before he fell asleep, and he knows they should talk about it, he should clarify what he meant. He’s been hesitating for too long as it is anyway, considering their promise to be honest and open with each other, so he might as well start with this, and face the inevitable confusion and disappointment Bucky is bound to feel.

 

* * *

 

When he finally fell asleep Bucky managed to spend a surprisingly peaceful night. Considering how strongly Steve’s words from last night stuck into his head it’s rather a miracle that he got through the night without waking, without even dreams that he can remember. It’s later than he usually wakes up, but there are no demanding noises coming from the goats outside, and the empty space next to him is cool already, which means Steve must have gotten up some time ago already. If he listens he can even hear movement outside, someone sweeping the pens probably.

He dresses swiftly and makes breakfast, brewing a pot of coffee along with porridge, which he covers with nuts, honey, and diced fruit after portioning it on the plates. Everything is just ready when he hears Steve coming to the door, and turns to smile at him, trying to be reassuring about it, because he immediately sees from Steve’s posture he feels uncertain. He’s also shirtless, droplets of water clinging to his skin from a presumably quick wash in the lake, and Bucky lets his eyes linger on him as he goes to find a new shirt from his bag.

“All the chores done, then?” Bucky asks when Steve comes to sit opposite him at his small table.

“Mostly,” Steve says. “Did you sleep well? You we’re so out of it I figured I’d just get ahead by myself.”

“I did. What about you?”

“Not really.” Steve is not looking at Bucky, but keeping his eyes at his bowl. Bucky wants to ask about what kept him awake, what he meant the previous night, but every phrase he can think of sounds at least a bit like an accusation, and he doesn’t want that.

They eat mostly in silence, and while Steve is tense, he does seem to ease just a bit into the day with his coffee, leaning on the table with his elbows, and holding the mug between his hands as he inhales its scent. Bucky waits, he figures it’ll be resolved in time. To him Steve looks like he wants to talk, and so at least for now Bucky will give him space to sort out his thoughts.

It’s looking like a quiet day for them, because there’s nothing else than the regular chores they have to do. Of course, there’s always something that can be done, but since they haven’t promised anything to anyone, Bucky decides it’ll probably do both of them some good to just take it easy for a day, and so he suggests taking a hike to the forest that stretches away from the lake shore. There’s a lot to see, and Steve actually hasn’t been out there yet. Bucky knows he tends to take his runs across the plains, which is probably best considering how fast he tends to go.

They pack snacks and drinks into bags, and head out. It takes less than ten minutes before the strangeness of the morning is gone and they’re chatting as usual, with Steve asking Bucky questions about the plants and animals they see, and Bucky answering the best he can, sometimes searching the answer via his Kimoyo beads.

They come to Bucky’s favorite spot, a little half moon of sand at the bend of a stream, with trees hanging over the water and providing shade, and with multicolored flowers blooming all around.

“Maybe I should have brought my sketch book,” Steve says, referring to it the first time since leaving it with Bucky. He hasn’t asked about it after arriving, hasn’t even spared a glance for it on Bucky’s shelf.

“We can always come back,” Bucky says and sits down on the sand, pulling a bottle of water from his bag.

Steve has a drink as well before flopping down on his back and resting his head on his crossed arms. Bucky leans back and tilts his face up toward the sun, closing his eyes even when it’s not shining directly at him but sifting through the foliage.

“I was jealous of your friends, back when we lived in Brooklyn,” Steve says, and Bucky turns to look at him. Steve’s not looking at him at all, but has his eyes closed as he continues. “And I was afraid.”

“Of what?” Bucky asks, confused, because it doesn’t fit the picture of Steve he has in his head to be afraid.

“You had all those people, all of them wanted your company, but no one ever looked at me twice.”

Bucky immediately realizes what exactly Steve feared, and knows too, that this must be some of the ugly thoughts he referred to the previous day. “I never would have left you for other people,” he says, not quite hurt, but maybe getting there, depending on what else Steve will say.

Now Steve opens his eyes and looks at Bucky, terribly earnest. “I know. I do. I knew it even then, really, but it was still how I felt, I tried not to, but it wouldn’t go away.”

He seems to be more distressed than Bucky is, and it whisks away the potential hurt inside him, because Bucky knows a lot about feeling something while knowing better. He reaches out and squeezes at Steve’s elbow reassuringly, since his hands are under his head, trying to convey his sincerity with the touch.

“I get that, it’s okay.” A thought occurs to him then, a memory from his last time in Siberia, which he usually tries to not think of. “When we were in Siberia, why did you remind me of that particular memory just before we went after Zemo? I thought back then you were evoking a good memory, but if you didn’t like other people with us, why would you pick that one?”

Steve is quiet for a moment, and Bucky waits, seeing clearly he’s searching for words, maybe even for himself.

“I suppose,” Steve finally says, speaking slowly as if he’s figuring out out while talking, “we always used to talk around things. I mean, those that weren’t safe. There wasn’t anything between us that wouldn’t have withstood scrutiny, but we were close enough that we knew to be careful. Had we talked of how much of a good time we had just the two of us, that might have been taken in the wrong way, but if we talked of meeting girls, it was safe. And it became a habit, even when it was just the two of us, and habits are hard to break.”

“It makes sense,” Bucky says, because Steve clearly needs him to confirm he understands. Bucky got more than just their habit from the explanation, because while Steve apparently didn’t think there had been anything other than friendship between them, Bucky knows for him it hadn’t been quite that simple, even though he had pretended to even himself. It’s a confirmation of one kind, but it still leaves the fact that Bucky thinks it might not be true for Steve either these days. The day before and during the morning he’s occasionally caught Steve looking at him with a new scrutiny, and there’s also been hints of blush whenever Bucky did let him see he had been caught. So perhaps even if there had been nothing but friendship in Steve’s heart back before the war, Bucky might hope for more now, if he only dared.

“It was a good day, though,” Steve says, genuinely smiling now. “It was mostly just the two of us, we ran into her for a while and you tried to show off, but in the end she took off after you wouldn’t ditch me.”

“I liked going on double dates back then. It kind of feels odd now, but I remember I did.”

“I hated them,” Steve says frankly and without decorum, clearly having decided to let more out now that he’s begun.

“Why? I mean, I know it never really went anywhere for you but it was at least a good time.”

“Not really. All of those girls were just mooning after you. After a while I only said yes because I knew you liked those nights, but it wasn’t really that fun to know even beforehand that they’d just be disappointed.”

“Just shows all of them were idiots,” Bucky says, and collects his memories while staring at the water before looking back at Steve. “I’m sorry I kept asking you, I didn’t want to make you miserable. I always hoped that they’d see you like I did, but I guess I was a hypocrite about it, because when one finally did, I had a hard time swallowing it, with you only having eyes for Agent Carter when she was in the room.” It comes a bit closer to a confession than Bucky intended, but he figures he might as well just follow down the path.

“I remember you never fully warmed up to her, even when you worked well with her.”

“Hell of a dame she was,” Bucky says, and means it completely.

“Yeah, that she was. I’m glad I got to know her and be a part of her life.”

“You still miss her?” Bucky asks, because apparently a masochistic part of him has surfaced. Steve’s answer isn’t quite what he expected, though.

“I mean, of course, she was one of the most important people to me, and one who knew me from before. But it’s not like pining after lost love anymore, I got over that after I woke up. I loved her, but she had moved on, she’d had a life, and I was happy for her. I managed to find a way to be her friend instead during her last years.”

“I’m glad of that,” Bucky says. “Anyway, I suppose we’re both found to have had less than charitable thoughts here.”

“It’s okay, Bucky, don’t worry about it. Just being human,” Steve says, completely sincere.

Bucky barks out a laughter, because it’s so typical of Steve. “I’m glad you said that, because now you can stop being a hypocrite and beating yourself over for being one as well.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to it, just pokes him on the thigh, but he does look a bit sheepish.

The discussion has cleared the air, though, and Bucky thinks it’s as if another wound between them is healing now. It wasn’t easy, really, but it was necessary, and he’s glad they managed to talk things out. They eat their snacks while talking about the butterflies that are fluttering among the blooms, and start back toward the village when the sun is still up high. It’s hot, but it’s not too bad in the shade of the trees. Before they go, Steve takes a few photos of the scenery, and Bucky hopes it’s with the intention of drawing them sometime soon.

 

* * *

 

After the serum Steve had to learn to draw again almost from the beginning. It obviously didn’t take as long as the first time, but he needed a lot of practice before his bigger hand with its new muscles obeyed his much sharper eyes. It’s much the same now, although he’s not physically different, even when he feels like he’s gone through a complete overhaul since few weeks before the Valkyrie when he drew the last time. He’s years out of practice, and his hand doesn’t produce the shapes like he sees them, but it’s okay, he has time.

It’s more than okay, since he can now pick up a pencil and draw at all, something that not so long ago used to fill him with dread.

“You look peaceful,” Bucky says, sitting down just behind him and hooking a chin over his shoulder. Steve is a bit self-conscious of his drawing, it’s nothing like his best work that Bucky has seen, but he still doesn’t stop shading the lake scenery. 

“It’s familiar, even when I’m clearly out of practice.”

“We know what helps with that,” Bucky says and shifts, turning his head so that his cheek is resting in Steve’s shoulder instead. He opens a screen and focuses on it, Steve only sees it from the corner of his eye, but he thinks there is text and diagrams. He turns back to his work and sets to refining the details, matching his breathing to Bucky’s.

He’s been more conscious of the closeness now after his internal revelation. They always were at ease physically, but this feels different, more intimate somehow even when they are out for anyone to see. The way they touch each other, the way Bucky usually initiates it, has more tenderness than Steve remembers. More than he probably would have accepted, back before the war. There’s no comparison to during their campaign, because after they reconnected, Bucky had been different, skittish, more withdrawn, and they hadn’t really touched each other outside necessity. Steve had abstractly felt guilty every time cold made them stick close, because even when Bucky had been apparently unbothered and had taken it all pragmatically, Steve had been very conscious of the change in him, and so it had felt wrong that he had relished the closeness with Bucky.

Steve has been considering the new ways they’ve come together during his stay, and he’s tried to look at Bucky with more clear eyes as well, trying to see what there really is without making assumptions due to their past relationship. It would be easy enough to fall into the old patterns of their friendship even now that they’ve changed so much, but Steve doesn’t want to, and as days pass and he observes Bucky, he’s started to think that maybe Bucky doesn’t want to either. Maybe Bucky too wants something more.

On the road toward whatever new they’ll still have to sort out some tangles that have spawned between them, something they’ve now begun with admitting the painful truth of uncharitable thoughts, bringing honesty into light and coming through stronger. Steve still doesn’t delude himself into thinking it’ll be easy from now on, but perhaps easier at least.

It’s a beautiful day, and it would be a shame to break the peace, but on the other hand, perhaps the safety that surrounds them will carry them forward, will help them look with clear eyes into what has been and what will be. Steve pauses his drawing, casting around his mind for a thread to pull when his phone beeps with a message. When he reads it the mood of the day shatters.

“What is it?” Bucky pulls away a bit to look at him, but doesn’t need an answer in the end. “You’ll have to go.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry to cut this short.”

“It’s okay, I know you have to do this.” Bucky’s words are casual, but there is tightness in his expression. Steve would want to say something, would want to soothe his worries, but he doesn’t know what exactly they are, and so he doesn’t have anything to start with. Instead he gets to his feet, offering a hand down to Bucky before heading toward the house to pack his things.

It only takes a few minutes to gather everything, to leave his sketchbook on Bucky’s shelf, and to pull on his boots. Bucky hovers nearby, and all throughout they don’t say anything, not even when Steve comes to Bucky, everything ready. For a full minute they just stand facing each other, suspended in the moment.

Finally Bucky fists his hand into Steve’s shirt, pulling him closer, and Steve leans in, their foreheads coming to rest together. Steve closes his eyes, draws a deep breath, and listens to Bucky do the same. Who knows when he’ll have the next opportunity to come visit, and so he soaks himself in Bucky’s presence, wraps it around his mind to carry it away when he goes.

“I’ll call you,” Steve says, pulls away, and starts for the door. He doesn’t look back, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to leave if he did. He’s already outside when Bucky speaks.

“Stay safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a roller coaster for them but especially Steve.
> 
> Halfway point looking at the chapter count, a bit further considering the word count (I suspect anyway, it's fairly close).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both happy revelations and disgruntlement.

The old saying about absence making the heart grow fonder is definitely true for Bucky. He rather hopes it is so for Steve as well, even when he does feel guilty for hoping things to be harder for Steve, for hoping that he misses Bucky as keenly and viscerally as Bucky misses him. Bucky can’t help but be constantly aware that even if he can get by without Steve, that even if he doesn’t really need Steve to be around, it would simply be better, and it’s probably natural to also hope for such feelings to be mutual.

They are in regular contact, as much as can be managed with Steve and his team needing to stay safe out there in the world. The Wakandan technology helps them with that, the encryption being practically impossible to crack from outside. Still, sometimes even signals moving to and fro is too risky, or they’re somewhere outside of reach, so there are still times when it’s impossible to call. Not to mention, there are times when Steve is otherwise occupied and can’t be distracted.

Bucky obviously has a much more flexible schedule, but Steve is still conscious of timezones when he calls, even though Bucky has told him to call whenever is convenient for him, especially since he generally appears to be in much more dire need of sleep. It’s clear as time passes that being a fugitive and having to work under the radar is getting to Steve. Bucky knows Steve still believes he made the right choice out of those available for him, but that Steve is also aware that they’d ended up in a situation where eventually there were only bad choices left. He must be questioning if there was a point he could have done something differently to change the course of things, enough that things would be better now. Steve hasn’t talked about it, but Bucky knows him well enough to be aware of how his mind must work.

He keeps coming back to their discussion about friendships, thinking about Steve’s admission of conflicting feelings he had before the war. Even when Steve didn’t exactly say it, Bucky knows the confession was also about their current life, of how Steve feels like an outsider among Bucky’s new circles, and feels guilty about it even when he clearly likes the people and is happy for Bucky. It’s fairly easy for Bucky to understand, after all what Steve spoke of is similar to the sentiments that echo inside his own head whenever he thinks of Steve’s new team. He felt the same even back during the war when there was the divide between them created by the fact that Steve was an officer and had access that Bucky didn’t, while Peggy Carter and Howard Stark were always there with Steve behind those closed doors.

Bucky doesn’t blame Steve for the jealousy, not when it would be so much like throwing rocks in a glass house. In truth he’s glad they both have people that are closer to one of them than the other, even now that their circles of friends are starting to meld together it’s good to have the independent support. Of course, it’s harder in general for Steve, because his established circle of friends has been torn apart, and those with him now share his status as fugitives, adding to the guilt Steve carries. It’s different compared to their early friendship that these days Steve does have a strong group of friends of his own, and yet even that can’t be easy.

Bucky is sometimes mad at the world on his own behalf, but it’s much easier to deal with than being mad at the world on Steve’s behalf. It’s probably what love does.

He’s outside investigating the goat pen, there are a few places where it could use being reinforced, and Bucky’s trying to figure out if he can do it by himself or if the repair work is something that will require two hands. If it’s the latter, he’ll need to figure out how immediate the problem is, because if it’ll hold for a while he might as well wait until Steve comes back and get him to help. Otherwise he’ll have to get someone from the village to help him.

His phone rings right then with Steve’s customary tone, and so Bucky’s smiling already when he answers, managing to keep it up even when Steve appears on the screen and looks more tired than Bucky’s seen him yet. He’s wearing one of the athletic shirts he always has under his uniform, and from the sounds and surroundings it’s clear he’s on a quinjet flying somewhere.

“I didn’t know you had a mission,” Bucky blurts out even before saying hello.

“Hi to you as well, Buck. And no, this wasn’t really a mission. There was a mudslide at an out of the way village in Thailand that we helped with.”

“Everything go okay?”

“You know how it is, those can be devastating. It certainly made a dent in their resources, destroyed some homes, but no one died and there were only relatively minor injuries. We salvaged what we could.”

“That’s good then, some change in routine, although you’ve clearly been pushing again.” Bucky frowns when Steve flutters his hand, as if to dismiss his concern. It’s not convincing at all when exhaustion is evident in every line of his body.

“I’m fine. What have you been up to?”

Steve changes the topic and Bucky allows it, hoping to at least get him to think of something else. He can’t help but notice that Steve’s smiles are slower to come, and they’re not as brilliant as Bucky remembers. There’s not much he can do over phone, and he suspects that if he pushes now Steve is just all the more likely to lose his temper. He always was more snappish when low on sleep, and aggravating him wouldn’t be conductive to Bucky’s wishes, so he tries to talk as if nothing is wrong, even when his mind keeps track of every little trace of fatigue in Steve.

It’s almost a physical ache to see Steve stretched so thin, but there’s another kind of an ache in Bucky as well, for Steve, for his presence, for the potential growing between them. Before Steve left the last time Bucky had been aware of a shift in their relationship, of how the both of them were almost as if perched on a precipice, waiting to see where things would lead them.

Of course, they will have to act, they will have to step over the edge and see if it’s a sudden drop or if there’s an unseen land in front of them. Or if they might be able to actually fly.

 

* * *

 

Steve feels like he could fall asleep and not open his eyes for a few days, but he’s determined to at least make it to Bucky first. He hasn’t slept in over two days, even the flight in was spent on reviewing information and tying up some final strings, and on top of that he’s been running low on sleep for a while now. What they do is important, necessary, and while it’s hard and even frustrating a lot of the time it’s satisfying as well. Steve feels that if he were to stop there’d be a hollow in the shape of his sense of purpose inside him, something he couldn’t fill with other things in life, no matter how good. He also doesn’t deny that there is a current hollow inside him, one that keeps missing Bucky like it’s a physical ache, and he knows that at least for now his internal desires can’t be satisfyingly fulfilled, because there’s a conflict. He’s seeking a middle ground, and while he hasn’t found it yet, he’s hopeful he’ll come up with something a bit more satisfying at least in time.

It helps to know Bucky is doing better as time passes; the consequences of his brainwashing are lessening, he’s healing, and while Steve knows he’ll struggle for a long time still, there’s so much more improvement after such a short time than Steve ever could have hoped for. He seems to have found at least a modicum of peace in Wakanda, and Steve is grateful for it.

While he’s been away, he has tried to get his mind used to the idea that Bucky has his own community that is, if not wholly, then at least for the most part very separate from Steve. There is still a part of his mind that feels ridiculously sullen and jealous about it, but he thinks it’s getting better. Of course the true test will come only when he’ll see Bucky interacting with other people again.

This time he managed to catch a ride straight to Bucky’s which he’s grateful for. He could make the trip by himself if necessary, even exhausted as he is, but he’s glad he can just sit and watch the scenery as the miles pass by. It’s obvious it’s been fairly dry, the plains are more yellow than the last time he visited, and the rivers are smaller. He spends a few moments trying to figure out when the rainy season is supposed to start, but it’s too much work and so he slips back to not thinking of anything in particular, just letting his eyes slide over the scenery, focusing here and there without purpose.

Steve texted Bucky his time of arrival, and so it’s not a surprise to find him standing in front of his little house. Even here the pastures are not as lush as Steve remembers even though there’s an irrigation system built into all the fields, but they’re certainly much greener than the uncultivated plains. Bucky’s little goat and cow herd is out on the hill, accompanied by a group of children from the village. Steve thanks his driver, hops off and makes for Bucky, hoping he doesn’t look too beat. His obvious fatigue has been a recurring conversation recently for the two of them.

He does feel refreshed as he approaches, because Bucky really is a sight for sore eyes, even more than ever now because the signs of his improvement are obvious on him. There’s a quiet confidence in him now, not brash like it used to be in his youth but certain and strong, evidence that he’s found something to center himself on. Now that Steve sees it he knows he’s been missing it, ever since he first saw Bucky in DC there’s been an air of being lost in him that now appears to be, if not fully gone, at least not so close to surface. The months of recovery have been kind to him, and Steve sends silent thanks into the air around himself, to the very earth on which he walks. 

Ever since he knew the date he’d come back, he’s been thinking of how to greet Bucky, of what to say to him. It doesn’t really need to be complicated, he could just say hi and be done with it, he could hug Bucky now that he know his physical presence is welcome. He could then continue just as they have so far, help Bucky with his chores and laze about, although probably the first thing he’ll need to do is to get at least one good night of sleep.

He could make it a visit like any other, but on the other hand, there’s a piece of him that desperately wants to make it something more. He wants to make it special, wants to expand the thing blooming between them and see what the potential looks like translated into reality. He doesn’t know how he should go about it, and he doesn’t even know if he’s ready, but the desire in him is almost overwhelming.

It’s because of this dilemma that he arrives in front of Bucky without having decided what to say, and the final few strides are useless anyway, because he’s enthralled by the view, by the flickering multitude of emotions in Bucky’s eyes. There’s joy, relief, happiness in him, but then a hint of uncertainty, of other sentiments Steve doesn’t have a word for, before he recognizes hardening determination.

Steve is so focused on trying to interpret Bucky’s expressions that he stops a bit later than is actually normal, comes to stand almost on Bucky’s toes, but before he can correct, either with half a step back or fully into a hug, Bucky slides a hand behind his neck, pulls him forward just a bit, and meets him in a kiss.

It takes seconds, it takes an eternity for Steve’s brain to go from surprise to confusion to realization, long enough that Bucky stills, the pressure of his lips easing as he makes to pull away, and Steve can’t have that. He still doesn’t know if he’s fully ready, doesn’t know what this means for them, but they’re here now, and the suspicion that Bucky may have been feeling the same as he does is proved true. Bucky kissed him, and Steve is not about to let him go without kissing him back, so he does. He drops his bag on the ground to get both hands on Bucky, one to his waist, another in his hair. Bucky’s hand at the back of his neck twitches, the hold tightening for a moment, not painful but possessive as Steve kisses him back. Now that he must know for sure Steve welcomes it, Bucky crowds closer again, gently cradling his head in hand.

There are kisses in Steve’s past, significant and not, but this is the first time Steve dares to believe this really will last, this time he’s fully invested, and he’s not about to leap into an uncertain fate. It makes him almost hesitant, careful, because he wants to get this right, he wants to build a solid foundation rather than a house of cards, and so he pulls back again.

Bucky’s flushed, the color on his cheeks bright even with his tan, and he’s smiling, eyes twinkling when he looks at Steve, who’s relieved Bucky didn’t take his retreat as a rejection, because it’s anything but that.

“A bit much, wasn’t it?” Bucky grins and caresses the side of Steve’s neck as he’s letting his hand fall down, seeking Steve’s to tug him toward the house.

Steve scoops his bag up again. “It was certainly something.” He’s warm all over, his insides tingling with the potential, but he doesn’t want to leap right into it the way he does with most things. He wants to savor the discovery of what their new potential means with Bucky. He’s also nearly dead on his feet, and demonstrates it by yawning right when he’s about to explain more, making Bucky laugh.

“Come on, you should probably go to bed. Unless you’re hungry, it’ll be better if you don’t wake up in the middle of the night ravenous.

“I ate on the way here,” Steve says as he lets Bucky push him toward the bed.

He manages a quick wash and brushes his teeth before he strips out of his clothes and crawls onto the side of the bed he’s been using. Part of him thinks maybe he should be more self-conscious about undressing in Bucky’s presence, but he dismisses it as ridiculous. They’ve never hidden from each other and he’s not about to start now, despite the very obvious new element in their relationship.

He’s barely settled before Bucky too sits on the bed, leans his back to the wall and drops the Kimoyo beads on his lap. The screen that projects into the air shows text, and Steve doesn’t try to decipher what exactly it is, just notes that the pages turn without any obvious signal from Bucky.

“You don’t have to stay on my account, if you still wanted to be up,” Steve says.

“It’s the opposite of a problem,” Bucky just says and shuffles a bit closer. Steve would like to take his hand, but it’s on the other side, and instead he snuggles even closer and closes his eyes, falling asleep in Bucky’s comfortable warmth.

***

Steve wakes up to the bed dipping next to him. Even before he opens his eyes he can tell it must be something like late morning considering the amount of light sifting in through his eyelids. He’s warm and relaxed, the exhaustion of the previous day gone with a good night’s sleep, and the best thing of all is the immediate presence of Bucky.

He opens his eyes and finds the two of them mirrored, with Bucky laying on his side opposite to him, albeit on top of the blankets rather than under them. He’s dressed for the day, and there’s a sheen of perspiration at his hairline, telling Steve he must have been out already taking care of his morning chores. Now that he listens, he can hear the chattering of the children outside, they’ve probably come to help Bucky since it’s not a school day. 

There is a shadow of hesitation in Bucky’s eyes, and so Steve isn’t at all surprised to hear him ask, “Okay?” He understands what Bucky means by it, all the versions of it. Are you okay? Is this new thing between us okay? Are we okay?

“All good,” Steve says, his voice still rough from sleep, and reaches for Bucky’s hand, squeezing it and not letting go. Bucky doesn’t pull it away either.

“I didn’t plan it,” Bucky says, sheepish but smiling now. “You came back and it just happened. I know there’s still stuff we haven’t sorted out, about the past and of who we are, so I think we should, you know.” Bucky falters and shrugs, his smile a bit crooked.

“Take it slow?” Steve asks, laying a hand at Bucky’s waist to reassure him. “I was thinking of that too. And I’m not regretting it, even if it’s a change.”

“Me neither,” Bucky says, and it’s impossible for Steve to do anything but pull him close and kiss him again.

 

* * *

 

After they get up it’s not that different a day compared to any other Bucky and Steve have spent together. Steve slept until almost midday, so they spend a few more hours in the shade, eating and relaxing, waiting until the heat lessens a bit. After that they take a trip to the village, because Bucky is running low on some supplies, so he might as well take an advantage of Steve’s carrying ability while he’s there. 

It’s funny because during the visit to the village Bucky feels almost as wary as he was when he first came to live at the farm. He knew it would be safe, but paranoia caused by decades of mistreatment isn’t that easily set aside, so at first he’d been watching everyone around him, keeping a track of their movements and getting to know their quirks. These days he knows in his bones that he’s safe, that everyone around him is safe too, and it allows him to relax in a way he probably couldn’t anywhere else this crowded. Now though, he’s hyper aware of the change between the two of them, and while he rationally knows they’re not behaving in an unusual way, he can’t help but feel like it must be obvious on them, on their faces and the glow of their skin. In truth even that probably isn’t the case, because Bucky knows he always looks unusually happy when Steve’s around, the people are already used to it, and so it’s natural no one seems to pick up any difference. He still keeps watching.

The excursion takes longer than usual even with Steve there to help carry things, because it seems everyone wants to have a word with them. Bucky’s glad the people are going out of their way to include Steve, he wants Steve to feel welcome and comfortable here. He wants Steve to know it’s a good place to stay, to maybe start considering it seriously for himself. Eventually the discussions run their course, and people start to return to their own chores. As they head back toward the farm, they wave at Amara, who’s making something out of a patterned fabric, perhaps a tunic of sorts, and she very definitely winks at Bucky. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear she at least noticed things have changed. Bucky is actually relieved, it’s one less person that he’ll have to tell.

As they walk back Bucky notices that Steve keeps stealing glances at him, a little smile playing on his lips. They walk close to each other, and Bucky’s fairly sure that if his sole hand wasn’t occupied, Steve would hold his hand. Funnily enough, it’s the first time Bucky’s really missed having two hands since his metal arm got blown away in Siberia. It’s often inconvenient to only have one hand, but he manages, and there’s help nearby. It’s just that it’s a beautiful evening even with clouds gathering up in the horizon, tall and almost purple, and Bucky would just like to hold hands with Steve.

Back at home they put everything away, do the evening chores at the farm, and make sure all the animals are in the shelter, because the storm is rising fast now. Bucky’s not worried, thunderstorms are nothing out of ordinary, not to mention they really could do with some rain, but he just wants them all to be comfortable.

The temperature comes down with the rain, and Bucky is glad to slip under the blankets with Steve a bit earlier than usual. He’s still not very comfortable in cold, he never liked the winters in Bucharest, and it’s another reason why he enjoys being in Wakanda so much. It’s even better now with Steve next to him, because he’s like a furnace of heat, and never minds sharing. 

They’re again facing each other, their knees knocking together, Steve yawning due to the still lingering exhaustion. Bucky reaches to take Steve’s hand, and the brilliant smile and a squeeze he gets in return warms him further still. 

Steve falls asleep fairly fast, but Bucky lingers, listening to the rumble of thunder and the whistling of the wind outside, falling bit by bit into drowsiness. It’s been a simple day, a regular day much like Bucky would like to have more of. He’s glad that Steve now knows how he feels, happy to have a confirmation that the feelings are reciprocated, but same as with their friendship, he’s not delusional enough to think it will wipe away all their problems. Those will still need to be addressed and worked through.

Bucky’s happy, but he knows he’s not going to get too many days like this, because sooner or later Steve will leave again for his mission. He also knows Steve is still raw about having lost him, time and again. It’s evident in the way he sometimes looks at Bucky, as if needing to make sure he hasn’t disappeared. Those are issues for another day though, and Bucky closes his eyes, welcoming the sleep.

***

It’s still chilly when Bucky rolls straight out of the bed and crouches next to it, trying to reorient himself. The dream is looming large in his mind, trying to blot out the reality, but by now he knows how to deal, he knows it’s a dream and can be fought. It’s not that it can’t hurt him, obviously the dreams can, they can make his whole day or week miserable, but he knows he can get past it, and has learned techniques to lessen the impact.

He grounds himself, focuses first on the carpet under his hand. It’s soft on top, and gives under his fingers if he presses, since there’s just the waterproof insulator under it over his dirt floor. The hand on ground is his focal point, and from there he can push the awareness further away from himself. He’s in his house, he’s safe, there’s nothing alarming happening anywhere, and the only thing that’s even a little bit out of ordinary is Steve’s presence, frozen and waiting on the bed to see what will happen. Bucky breathes in and out, letting the air escape in a whoosh, and rolls his shoulders to relax them.

“Everything okay? Do you need me to do anything?” Steve asks, tentative but not alarmed.

“Just a nightmare, needed a moment to push it away.” 

Bucky pushes himself up to his feet and stretches while taking a stock on how he feels. It’s still a few hours to sunrise, so there’s time to get some more sleep, but he doesn’t always manage it after a nightmare. This time though, with Steve sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, soft and sleep-rumpled, it doesn’t seem like a daunting prospect, and he gets back in. Steve lies down when he does, and up close there’s a furrow of worry on his brow, familiar from countless occasions, and even feeling listless Bucky manages a smile.

“I’ll be okay, this is an old hat by now.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t worry,” Steve says. He makes an abortive movement as if to shift closer, but clearly reconsiders, probably worried whether Bucky is comfortable with touch. He usually is with Steve, relishes in it, but there are times when it’s difficult, and it makes sense Steve would be unsure about it now. Bucky realizes it would be nice, he thinks having Steve right there will probably help banish the yawning black pit that his subconsciousness cooked up, and so he presses closer. It’s all the hint Steve needs, he pulls Bucky in and wraps his arms around him. Steve is solid and warm against him and suddenly Bucky is exhausted again, sleep claiming him in seconds.

***

Bucky is still feeling listless during the next day, which he knows is reflected in his demeanor. Steve is even more forceful than usual about taking more than his share of the chores, and the way he is, Bucky lets him get away with it. Steve keeps stealing glances at him, probably not trying to conceal them, but still discreet to avoid aggravating him. It makes sense, for him to be visibly unsure, considering he hasn’t actually seen Bucky have a nightmare before. They’ve talked about them, Steve knows he suffers from them the same as he knows Steve does too, but this is the first time one has occurred when they’re together.

“I usually have to struggle to get a grip of reality after nightmares,” Bucky explains as they’re finishing lunch. “The moments immediately after I wake up are the toughest, but the feeling tends to linger to the next day, just making everything a bit strange.”

“What can I do to help?” Steve asks, straight to the point as he tends to do.

“You’re helping just by being here. And it’s okay, they’re getting less and less common, looking at the trend. I’ll be fine.”

Steve reaches out and takes his hand, something he’s been clearly wanting to do for a while now, and since Bucky is done with his meal he allows it, squeezing back. “I just wish I could do more,” Steve says.

“Well, it’s the same as ever, you can’t carry all the burdens of the world. Nor all mine.”

Steve makes a face that’s so displeased Bucky has to laugh, and it helps with breaking the somber mood even more, especially since Steve starts laughing as well. The day is definitely looking up, and Bucky can feel the last tendrils of the nightmare starting to disappear into memory.

Unfortunately they only get a couple of better hours. Steve’s phone beeps at mid-afternoon, and when he reads the message his face hardens into determination.

“I have to go, there’s some Hydra activity and the window of opportunity on this one is short.” Steve looks regretful, he’s probably considering the previous night and the discussion they had about him making things better for Bucky. And Bucky is tired, his nerves are on the surface, which makes him speak up.

“Do you really have to go?” As soon as the words are out Bucky knows he shouldn’t have asked, but at the same time he doesn’t exactly regret them, because the question is based on how he feels.

For several long seconds there’s only silence, Bucky looking up from his seat to Steve who already got up before he asked the question. Steve is completely frozen still, his face a mask that would be inscrutable to anyone but those who know him well.

“We’ve had this conversation before, a long time ago,” Steve says, careful, as if it’s the only thing keeping his temper in check, but he appears a bit lost too, which rather does deflate Bucky.

“I know, I remember, and I also know you’re not likely to do anything less compared to eighty years ago. I’m just, I can’t help but wonder if we’d be happier.”

“In some ways, probably. Yes. And in others, definitely not.” Steve is quivering, glancing away before looking at Bucky again, as earnest as Bucky’s ever seen him. “But there are battles that need to be fought.”

The earnestness is suddenly too much, it sparks a resentment in Bucky. “Do you think I don’t know that? Of course there are those. But does it have to be you who always goes out on the limb?”

“I still can, so it does.”

Steve has clearly said his piece, and Bucky knows that he has nothing constructive to add, even though he can think of a lot of things he might say. He doesn’t say anything, not even when Steve nods and goes to pack his things, not even when he’s ready and stops next to Bucky again. For a while Steve clearly searches for words, it seems there is a lot he wants to say same as Bucky, but none of it comes out.

“I have to go,” Steve finally says again, and after waiting for a whole minute for an answer Bucky doesn’t have, he turns and leaves.

Steve is already out of hearing range when Bucky whispers, “Stay safe.” It’s the closest to praying he has come to since before the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more of a roller coaster! That’s not a good place to leave, guys...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflecting on their relationship apart and together.

Steve is slouching on the shabby couch of the equally shabby safe house, his legs stretched out and eyes tracking the pattern of water damage in the ceiling. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he only realizes Natasha is in the room when she folds herself on the couch next to him, tucking her feet under herself and leaning sideways to the threadbare cushion, staring at him.

“Okay, what did you do?”

“Some friend you are, deciding just like that it must be my fault.” Steve aims for humor, and immediately knows he missed, but his tone must be even more pathetic than he thinks, because she quirks a small smile at him, sympathetic rather than sarcastic.

“That guilty demeanor must be leading me wrong, then. You’ve been moping ever since you came back from Wakanda, and it’s clearly not just that you’re bummed out about your visit being cut short. So, what happened? I don’t think it’ll get any better with you just sitting on it, you’re getting more and more spaced out every day.”

It’s not a rebuke, but Steve hears the twofold concern underneath, both for him as her friend that she wants to be happy, but also for them, for their group, because considering what they’re doing, being distracted is dangerous. Not only for himself, but for all of them, and the last thing Steve wants is to put any of them in more danger than they already are. He is generally loathe to ask for advice when it comes to personal things, and he knows it’s not exactly a good thing, but the knowledge doesn’t make it any easier to break old habits. Now though, he really needs to think of all of them, and maybe Natasha can help him sort out some of the questions and tangles in his head.

“We kissed,” he blurts out, which, in retrospect, is probably not the most informative way to put it or even the best place to start.

“I’d have thought that would be a good thing,” Natasha says.

Sam comes from the kitchen, having clearly been listening while making himself a sandwich. “Yeah, why the long face? Wait, did you not want it? Did you just go along with him? Because that’s not good.”

“No,” Steve hastily stops Sam who’s already working on getting incensed. “I mean, I did want it. It was sooner than I would have made a move, but it was good. It’s just—” Steve shakes his head, lines out his thoughts and explains, not every detail but enough that his friends will understand. 

“I worry we might be incompatible after all this time,” Steve concludes.

Sam looks like he wants to say something but stuffs his mouth full of a sandwich instead, which Steve takes to mean he looks pathetic enough that Sam doesn’t want to say something harsh. Natasha pulls him into a hug, but the way she smiles actually helps Steve more, because she clearly doesn’t think he’ll need to worry, and he’s most likely about to hear why.

“Director Carter was definitely right about you being dramatic,” Natasha says, laughter in her voice.

“I regret telling you she said that,” Steve grumbles, but doesn’t try to pull away from her.

“Trust me, I’m never going to forget that one. But really, you had a hump in the road with Barnes at a time that’s definitely less than ideal, but considering what you both have been through already, I don’t think it’ll be terminal. You’ll just have to hash it out.”

“What if we want such different things they don’t go together?” Steve does feel encouraged a bit, but the worry he’s feeling isn’t banished so easily.

“First you have to find out if that’s the case, it’s no use just worrying about it,” Sam says. “You’ll talk and you figure out what you both can and can’t do, and what kind of a compromise you can reach. What you should do will emerge from that.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Steve says, knowing he definitely sounds petulant now.

Natasha shakes him a bit, even when she’s small enough that it’s awkward. “It might be simple in theory, but we’re not saying it’ll be easy. It most likely won’t be. But you know it’ll be worth it.”

Steve sits up, trying to pull himself together. “Yeah, I know.”

There’s a knock on the door, their agreed upon code, so Sam goes and lets Wanda in. She looks relaxed, almost happy, and the haunted look she’s had since the raft is almost gone. Steve is glad to see it, glad to know she’s recovering.

“What’s going on here?” Wanda asks, clearly taking in the mood in the room. She definitely doesn’t need her powers for that.

Steve shrugs and glances at Natasha. He’s not particularly keen on talking about the trouble between him and Bucky again, but he thinks Wanda should be told, even though the issue is personal to him. With their situation, not many things are fully personal. Natasha nods, and he knows she’ll take care about the explanation. He gets up, hugs Wanda on the way out, and decides to try and get some sleep. He’s been running low again, and it won’t do to compound the issues he’s struggling with.

***

Steve does manage to sleep, somehow. Not that well, but enough that he’s at least physically fit and ready for anything they might need to do. They cleared the Hydra cell Natasha had found, and from there they discovered information on a secret base, which is why they called Wanda back as well. The three of them, him, Natasha, and Sam, can take any regular Hydra team, but for a whole base it’s better to have more options, and Wanda has been training, her skills and powers growing every day.

They’ll be heading out that night under the cover of darkness, but right now Steve is sitting on the balcony floor, shielded from view by the railing. He has his phone in his hand, and he’s staring at Bucky’s name in his contacts. He’s been doing so for a while now, because he wants to call Bucky, wants to hear his voice, but at the same time he doesn’t know what he’d say, nor if the call or even a message would be welcome. He stuffs the phone in his pocket when the door opens, and makes space for Wanda next to him. She hands him a mug of coffee, piping hot and perfect.

“You should go back as soon as possible,” Wanda says. “It’s better to not let trouble fester.”

“I know, and I will, right after we’re done with this one.”

“Good. It’ll be okay.”

Steve glances at her, how she looks perfectly calm and carefree. “Even with you powers you can’t know that.”

“I know how the two of you look at each other. You’ll find a way to make it work.”

Steve rather wants to be annoyed at how certain she is in the face of his own doubts, but it would be unfair, and besides, it’s good to hear her say it, that she noticed their closeness even when she only saw them together for a very little amount of time.

“I hope you’re right,” Steve says, and drinks his coffee.

He doesn’t call or message Bucky that morning, but he does resolve to focus on the task at hand so that everything will be cleared as fast as possible. Then he’ll go back to Wakanda and see how to repair the crack between him and Bucky.

 

* * *

 

Days pass, and there’s no word from Steve, no calls, no messages. Even taking into account how they parted, Bucky would start worrying after a while, considering he knows how dangerous Steve’s life is outside of Wakanda, but that at least is taken care of. Rather than from Steve, there’s a message from Natasha, just letting him know they’re all fine and safe. After the first one she sends regular status reports, not delving into what they’re doing or any other details, just continuing to let Bucky know they’re safe, but it’s all he needs. Sometimes he wonders if Steve asked her to do this, or if she asked Steve if she should, or if she just sneaked Steve’s phone and got Bucky’s contact information without Steve knowing. Bucky doesn’t care too much, not right now, although he does file it in his mind as something to ask Steve when he gets back.

It’s one thing he doesn’t doubt; that Steve will come back and that they’ll sort things out. He doesn’t know what their relationship will look like afterward, but he has faith they can get through, just as they have before. He now thinks it might have been a bad idea after all to kiss Steve, he’d known there were still issues between them they hadn’t acknowledged, although this one had surprised even him with how forcefully it had made itself known.

While he’s been living in Wakanda and worrying over Steve somewhere out in the world, often hoping they didn’t have to be separated, he hadn’t really thought about how it might reflect their shared past, not until now. What he said to Steve when he was leaving felt familiar, and now that Bucky has put some thought into it, he knows why. He remembers thinking so many times when they lived in Brooklyn that their lives could be so much easier, happier even, if Steve didn’t feel the need to fight every battle he encountered, if he could have just sometimes looked away.

It’s not that Bucky thinks Steve fought for the wrong causes, whenever he heard the reason why Steve had stepped into the fray it was to help others or against injustice, something Bucky too had many times stepped up for. He knows Steve didn’t fight just for the sake of it, he was always fully capable of shrugging away insults to himself that didn’t hurt anyone else. In truth, whenever that happened Bucky himself was more keen to take up the fight, not that he often had an opportunity, since people did tend to go after Steve only when they weren’t together. Still, even when stepping up for just causes, it didn’t really mean Steve’s battles were infrequent, because injustice was rife in a big city, even one as diverse as theirs. Sometime because of it.

Bucky knows that Steve hasn’t really changed that much since before the war, not the core of him where he holds his beliefs and convictions, the part of him that dictates his actions. The difference now is that he can win more of the fights he gets into, although he seems to have taken that as an invitation to find bigger ones.

Bucky passes through his days, and he obviously mopes, he knows he does. Amara even tells him off for it once while they’re sorting the nuts the children picked during a forest walk. She reminds him that there are ups and downs in any relationship, and that the important thing is to learn to navigate them. It’s true, and something Bucky technically knew already from before, but it’s good to be reminded.

Shuri unsurprisingly takes the topic up too, although she at least first finishes working on the shoulder port that’ll allow him to use a prosthetic if a time comes when he’ll need to. Bucky thinks it’s considerate of her to confront him only when he’s capable of walking away if he wants to.

“It’s a bit ridiculous,” he tells her. “First I was apprehensive of him coming here, and now I don’t like him leaving. It’s like my head is full of double standards.”

“That and hypocrisy, but whose isn’t,” she says. “What is it that you worry about the most?”

Bucky thinks of it, makes himself really consider and sort out which parts are him being selfish or inconsiderate, which parts are just about wanting less complications, and what is the real fear. “I suppose I worry if we’ve come too far, if who we’re now means we won’t fit together in the end. If what we want in the world is too different. We’ve been trying to work through both the things that have happened recently as well as those that made some stuff difficult already before the war, but it’s just that there are so many things.”

“I think the fact that you worry about it is a good sign. It means you’re willing to work on it, and I think Steve is too. Other than talk to him, which I’m sure everyone and their aunt has been saying, I think you could talk to Nakia.”

Bucky is a bit thrown by the suggestion. He knows Nakia, but not that well, since she tends to be away from Wakanda a lot. He does know Steve met her and instantly liked her. He just doesn’t really see the reason why talking to her specifically would be beneficial with this. “How come?”

“She refused to become the queen, because there were things outside our border and in Wakanda she believed she needed to do, things that she couldn’t have done had she been married to my brother.”

“I guess I see where you’re going at with this, but it’s not exactly raising my confidence here that everything will work out.”

“Just talk to her, you’ll see. She’s coming back today, so you can just stay and have dinner with us.”

Bucky easily agrees, he likes the extended royal family, even when he’s more comfortable in his village and hence doesn’t really spend that much time in the capital.

***

Shuri must have talked to Nakia beforehand, because she approaches Bucky after the dinner and invites him to walk with her, clearly aware of what his problem is.

“Sometimes I wish Steve wasn’t so keen on taking on every battle in the world,” Bucky says after a while. “I know it’s not really fair of me.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t think it’s wrong either. We’re people, we feel what we feel. It’s the actions that matter, and you’ve never tried to stop him from doing what he must.”

“Sometimes I’ve tried to talk him out of stuff, though.”

“And did he ever listen?”

“Sometimes he did, he’d back off or change his plans.” Bucky thinks back to the war. “Usually he had a good grasp of what we should or could do, but sometimes he was just going to take too big a risk personally during the mission, so we found other ways to achieve our goals.”

She grins. “There you go. We all need that, someone to check us, because none of us is right all the time. It’s easy to get swept up in the mission, to get a tunnel vision. Another perspective helps with that, and changing plans doesn’t necessarily mean giving up on what’s important.”

“I know I can’t change him, it’s just—” Bucky makes a gesture to try and convey the helplessness he sometimes feels.

“And I doubt you’d really want to,” Nakia says. “It would make him a different person, and you already love him as he is.”

The statement hits Bucky right in the center, puts his feelings plainly in view, and it’s a simple truth that he sees. It is Steve exactly as he is that Bucky loves, the same way that even though he was exasperated with him back in Brooklyn, he always respected Steve for his convictions and his willingness to act, even when it made life harder sometimes. If he were any different, then Bucky’s feelings might be too.

“That’s the core of it,” Nakia says when his face must be reflecting the revelation he just had. “And for the way to manage it, I’ve found we have to decide what we can and can’t do, and to find a way to fit those together with someone else’s limits. I believe you will be able to, there’s certainly determination enough in both of you.”

They’re almost back from their round in the garden, the voices of the rest of the group already audible.

“Thank you,” Bucky says, feeling much easier. Nakia and T’Challa are making things work between the two of them even though their duties and convictions don’t match perfectly, and Bucky is starting to believe he and Steve can too.

“You’re welcome.”

They go back to others, Nakia sitting down next to T’Challa, visibly comfortable and happy in her life, and Bucky decides to make sure they’ll properly talk things through with Steve, no matter how difficult it will turn out to be.

He’s thinking he’ll message Steve, make it a show of goodwill, but before he gets to it he gets one from Steve instead, saying he’ll come back in a few days unless Bucky is busy. Bucky immediately messages back that he isn’t, tries to convey warmth with his words to dispel the uncertainty that’s clear in Steve’s words. It’s a relief to know that they can start to repair the crack between the two of them so soon, because he knows it would have been more difficult if Steve’s work had taken him away for months again.

It’s another restart for the two of them. They’ve had quite many of those already, and Bucky’s not superstitious, but he suspects they’re playing with luck too much, and resolves to do everything in his power so they won’t need one due to miscommunication again.

 

* * *

 

There is a healing bruise on Steve’s left cheekbone, just low enough that he hadn’t ended up with a black eye. It’s right in the middle of the uncomfortable itching state that happens during healing. He’s been grateful many times for his faster than normal healing ability, but the process itself isn’t really fun at all. He knows too, that it probably won’t help him to come back like this into Bucky’s presence; visibly recovering from an injury, no matter how light. It can’t be helped, and all in all Steve is relieved he’s finally back in Wakanda, because the uncertainty of things between him and Bucky has been eating him.

In a funny way this arrival is almost an echo of his previous one, because again he’s unsure of how his meeting with Bucky will go, he doesn’t know what to expect. Bucky’s reply to his message had been instant and welcoming, if short, and so Steve isn’t too apprehensive. He’s not expecting them to plunge right into an argument, but he’s not expecting much of anything else either.

This time he caught a ride with a patrol taking messages to the border, and rather than at the village, they drop him at the other side of the lake. It’s a relief, because it means he most likely won’t encounter anyone else before he gets to Bucky. He’s not too keen on having to talk to people in Bucky’s community before he’s clearer on where they stand. He’s hoping they’re not too angry at him at the very least, he knows the way they parted must have hurt Bucky at least as much as it did him, and the people here have become Bucky’s extended family. On the plus side, Steve can be relatively sure Bucky has people in his life that have been as supportive as his friends were with him.

When Steve approaches the farm he notes it’s unusually quiet, no one in sight, and he wonders if Bucky is away despite knowing he is arriving. The thought only flashes in his head, because right then Bucky comes out of his house and obviously seeing Steve by the lake he pauses outside to wait. There’s tension in his body, he’s also clearly unsure of how their meeting will go, and it in turn spurs Steve on, makes him determined to make this a good meeting, to signal to Bucky that even with their differences, their core is still solid.

In the end it’s natural as anything to drop his bag and walk right into a hug. He’s been carrying a tension in his shoulders ever since he left, but it slides away now with the familiar closeness. Steve tucks his face against Bucky’s neck and breathes in, feeling like he’s come home once more. In many ways he has, maybe to the only home he has left. Bucky’s hand is fisted in his shirt, his grasp tight, and he shivers once before he seems to arrive at ease.

Eventually they separate, enough to look at each other at least, and Steve gives Bucky a hesitant smile that’s answered in kind. Bucky touches the bruise on his face lightly, tilting his head to get a better look.

“I hope you gave at least as good as you got,” Bucky says, flashing a smile, and Steve remembers him saying something similar countless times before, the familiarity of the memory warming him at least as much as knowing this is truly an offering of peace.

“It’s dealt with, one less research base for Hydra.”

“Good. Come on, are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Steve says, a bit thrown by the casualty, and Bucky seems to catch his mood.

“I know we have to talk about how we parted, I just think it’s better if we’re not too tired or hungry when we do so.”

“You’re right, clear heads and all. Tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Bucky takes Steve’s hand and pulls him into the house.

***

It’s still dark when Steve opens his eyes. Bucky is awake as well, shifting from his back to his side, pausing when he sees Steve’s eyes open.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Bucky asks.

“Not sure. It’s okay, though. I’m not tired.”

“Kind of early to get up yet, it’s still a couple of hours until sunrise.”

Steve hums in reply, and burrows a bit deeper under the blankets. It’s the coolest time of the night, so he doesn’t really want to get up from the coziness of the bed even though he knows he most likely won’t fall asleep again. For a moment neither of them moves, they just look at each other. It’s dark enough that Steve can’t properly see Bucky’s expression, just his silhouette and the gleam of his eyes. Everything around them is quiet, even the birds are still sleeping. It must be too early for their morning song that often wakes Steve here in Wakanda.

Bucky shifts and draws a deep breath, and before Steve has properly realized he must be nervous, Bucky says, “I’m sorry for what I said before you left. It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to stay.”

There’s a rush of things in Steve’s head, the almost automatic response that it’s okay popping up but not out, he stops it before it makes it to his lips. It wouldn’t be quite honest in the way that Steve has been trying to be with Bucky, because the words still do sting. On a different day his answer might even be snippy, but he’s glad he’s calm and relaxed, because arguing wouldn’t help at all. Instead he nods his thanks, trying to convey his sincerity, and based on Bucky’s relieved sigh he manages it.

“I know I’m taking things too intensely sometimes,” Steve in turn says, “and I know it’s difficult for others, you especially since long ago. I’m sorry for that. I’m trying to find a better balance for it, but I’m not going to give up the things that matter.”

Bucky nods, his pillow rustling with the movement. “And I wouldn’t want you to. I mean, I know what I said sounded like it, and it’s not an excuse that I was tired and that it came out wrong. I do worry whenever you go, I always have, but I also understand why you need to, and I do agree with you on the why. I hope you do know that.”

“I do know.” Steve shifts a bit closer, and Bucky does the same so that they’re now resting on the same pillow, only a hair’s breadth separating them. Steve remembers how Bucky always supported him and had the same values regarding what was right and wrong, the only difference being that in Bucky’s opinion Steve should put more value on himself. “You’re not the only one to have told me that I should take myself more into consideration. I want to do it, to try at least. I mean, realistically I’ll probably have a hard time of it, old habits and all. But I promise I’ll try.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, probably considering him, even though Steve doesn’t think he can’t see much more than Steve does even though the light from the moon outside must fall more on his face than Bucky’s. “I’m glad of that. For you to try is all I ask, because there was a time you didn’t used to, when you thought the cause was so important.”

“It is, but then again, this way I’ll be able to fight for the cause in the future as well, and come back home in the meantime.” Steve lets a hint of humor come to his voice, and Bucky gently butts his forehead with his own.

“So there is a home for you?” Bucky asks, obviously remembering one of the discussions they had before he went into stasis the last time, about how Steve felt like he was drifting, had been ever since he woke up in the future.

Steve slides his arm across Bucky’s waist, noting happily how Bucky seems to relax into the contact. “I hope there is, although home isn’t really a place these days.” It’s a confession, words that mean so much more than their face value, but he trusts Bucky understands all of it. He probably does, considering how he leans even closer and presses a kiss on Steve’s lips. It doesn’t last long but there’s a sense of determination behind it that Steve cherishes.

“I like it here, but it only feels right when you’re here as well,” Bucky says, and after a pause continues, “I’m not trying to guilt you into staying all the time, it’s just—”

“I know what you mean,” Steve interrupts. “It’s the same for both of us I suppose.”

“Probably. I think I always knew after DC, or when we first came here, that we were better together. I was just afraid of committing to it, and even after I woke up and Shuri had sorted everything out for me, part of me was still afraid of asking you to come. In relation to that, it was really unfair of me to ask you to stay.”

Steve leans into Bucky for a second, collecting his thoughts, because Bucky really hit the core of it with his words, it’s something Steve has felt, and it’s a relief that Bucky seems to understand it too. “It was difficult for me too, to hear you ask me to stay when there was such a long time that I felt you didn’t want me.” At this Bucky squeezes him closer, as if to combat the words with the truth now, that Bucky does want him. “I guess it’s that some of what we have to do for ourselves isn’t completely compatible, maybe never has been, but I hope we’re at least learning to deal with it better.”

“I think we are,” Bucky says. “It all feels so complicated sometimes, the people we have been, our histories together and apart, and it’s probably inevitable there will be difficult moments, especially now that we’re still learning how we fit together.”

“Edges that still chafe,” Steve says, but he’s smiling now, because they’re of the same opinion at least. “Despite the difficulties, I believe we can make it work. I want to.”

“I do too,” Bucky says and pulls Steve into another kiss.

Steve succumbs to it, and they trade lazy kisses and cling to each other until the sunrise colors everything around them orange and the goats make their needs heard.

 

* * *

 

Their talk doesn’t change the concrete things; Steve is still going to leave when he’s needed, and Bucky will stay behind. He will still worry. Yet everything is different now that they’ve said the words they never before dared, have found an understanding and something to work for together. The structure of their lives is easier to handle now, even though it’s all still the same.

When Steve first came to see him Bucky worried about how they would get along, up until he realized he didn’t need to. After that he always had an underlying fear whenever Steve was in Wakanda that he’d have to go at any moment, that he’d disappear into the world again. Not fully of course, after all they had means of keeping in regular contact now unlike during the war, but it’s monumentally different from having Steve here with him that Bucky almost cannot believe it’s real even when they’re talking on the phone. Now that fear is almost gone. There will always be worry, but Bucky now somehow has accepted that this is how things must be. It’s a result of the soul searching he did while Steve was away, as well as their discussions. Steve will leave, sooner or later it will happen, and there’s no changing it. All they can do in the meanwhile is to live the best life they can and not waste time.

Uncertainty and insecurity are words and feelings that have followed Bucky for a long time now. It got a bit easier since he started immersing himself into the community here in Wakanda, but they’re not completely gone. In the same way, even though he’s comfortable and happy with Steve, there has been a thread of ambiguity about their relationship, about what they have been to each other and how it will affect them moving forward. Bucky remembers better these days, but his memory is not perfect, and never will be. The difference is, with him having decided to accept the shape of their current life, it’s easier to accept that it’s enough what they have now, there’s no need to dig through the past and try to reflect on it to see if what they have is right. It doesn’t matter, they’re different people now, and they both want to be together, right here and now. It’s enough, and finally Bucky believes it’s so for Steve as well.

On the day after their morning talk they repair the chicken coop. It’s fairly old, leaking at the roof, and not quite spacious enough for Bucky’s flock. It’s a beautiful day to the extreme, not quite as hot as it could be, there’s a shroud of cloud cover that lessens the intensity of the sun, but it’s still sweaty work.

It’s funny because Bucky knows more of the work they’re doing, but Steve needs to do the bulk of it, by virtue of possessing two hands. It’s not the kind of task he particularly relishes in, Bucky knows it well enough, but he seems to be happy to do it together. They work diligently, and soon enough they’ve worked out a system that allows Bucky to help in ways that make things go faster.

He also watches Steve, the precise movements of his hands, the definition of the muscles in his bare arms, the droplets of sweat tracing paths into the fine layer of dust accumulated on his skin. The details keep catching Bucky’s attention, and now he lets himself be arrested by them, by the easy strength displayed in every movement, and the flush on Steve’s cheeks. Desire is curling down in Bucky’s stomach, something he has so far pushed back whenever it has reared its head, but now that he’s made the decision to live his life fully, he doesn’t bother. 

He enjoys the desire, now that he knows it’s not wrong, not something that could be a problem, but something that is reciprocated. While they work he stands closer than would be strictly necessary, and lets his hands brush at Steve’s whenever they’re near. Steve is clearly feeling something too, because he keeps smiling as he glances at Bucky, and isn’t irritated at all even though they’d probably finish faster if Bucky gave him a bit more room to work. Neither of them seems to be in any hurry.

There are a few practical considerations, though. Steve’s enhanced physique helps him to deal with the heat a bit better than a regular human would, but he’s not used to it the way Bucky is, and so Bucky keeps an eye on him, presses him to drink regularly, and makes sure the flush is not due to impending heatstroke. From the way Steve looks at him it’s obvious he knows exactly what Bucky’s doing, but he goes along with it for all that he usually doesn’t like being coddled, and so it’s good enough for Bucky.

When the sun is setting the coop is ready for use once more, so it’s been a productive day, and they’re both ravenous once they’ve tidied up and put everything where it belongs. They only have a cursory wash at first, clean their hands and faces, and make a supper out of leftovers from the previous days to go with fresh fruit and bread. They eat outside, enjoying the calm of the evening setting over land.

When they’ve eaten they take care of the final chores of the day, go for a swim in the lake to wash more thoroughly, and rush back inside when the clouds overhead thicken and rain starts to come down. It’s the time of the year when the rains are getting more common, changing and washing the landscape all around, painting the whole area more green. For a moment they stand at the doorway, just watching outside as the rain comes down, not chilled despite only being wrapped in towels. Steve ends up making the first move; he pulls Bucky gently by the waist right against him, and brushes his lips lightly over Bucky’s.

“This okay?” Steve pauses there, his whole being a question, and Bucky leans into it more, into the gentleness that Steve has always had, has managed to keep safe all through the blows the world has dealt him.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, answering every version of the question, reaffirming that yes, he wants Steve, wants every part of him, old and new. He wants to take this step forward, and so he lets his towel drop to the floor, there’s better use for his hand than holding it up, like pulling Steve closer to him as he goes for a kiss again.

Steve kisses him back, tilting his head and parting his lips so that they fit together perfectly, inviting Bucky in even as they shuffle toward the bed, never interrupting the kiss. Their heightened awareness of surroundings comes in handy now, helping them to avoid tripping on anything. Steve’s towel falls down while they move, and it’s a whole new level of intensity to not have anything between the two of them. Bucky deliberately turns his groin right against Steve’s as they come to the bed, causing Steve to break the kiss in favor of drawing in a ragged breath and pressing his fingers a bit tighter on Bucky’s hip. He smiles and kisses Steve again, short and hard, before stepping apart long enough to make it onto bed without neither of them breaking anything. Steve comes after him, settling right next to him and pulling Bucky almost on top of him, their bodies flush together from head to toe as Bucky leans into a kiss again, insatiable now.

Ever since Bucky got free from Hydra he hasn’t thought that much about sex, nor has he sought it out. For one, there are only a handful of people he’s comfortable enough with to allow them to come close enough, and only one of them he’d consider for numerous other reasons. Beyond that, for the longest time his arousal was dormant, and even after it reawakened it was just another bodily function, not really connected to anything. His memories of past sexual encounters are hazy, mostly because he hasn’t really done the work to dig into them, since they weren’t anything important. 

Until now, sex has been very much on the back burner for him, and even with Steve his attraction wasn’t that much about it, even though it has been very physical. Seeing Steve, he’d wanted to touch him, wanted to press right into him, but it had been more about closeness, more about Steve than simply sex. Sex is part of it, the desire has been blooming in him, growing with his attraction, and he’s ready now to explore it with Steve.

They shift against each other, Bucky is fully hard now and so is Steve, his cock rubbing at Bucky’s hip as Steve undulates against him probably unconsciously, seeking friction. It’s a bit awkward at first, with Bucky half on top of Steve and with just one hand he’s unable to support himself while touching Steve, and he makes a frustrated noise right into Steve’s mouth, because they’re so close and yet it’s not enough.

“Yeah, hold on, let’s try this,” Steve says, and shifts under him, turning on his side so that Bucky’s lying on the bed now, not having to support himself, and they slot easily together when he lifts his knee and wraps his thigh around Steve’s hip, pulling him closer. It’s so much better now that their cocks are lined together, Steve’s hand on his hip helping them move against each other.

Bucky lets his head fall back, panting with the sensation, almost seeing stars due to how wonderful it is, the heat of Steve’s body against his, the low sounds of his arousal filling Bucky’s ears. He keeps rutting against Steve, chasing after the sensation, and he soon realizes he’s almost on a hair trigger, he doesn’t need much more to come. In the low light of the room he sees the flush has deepened on Steve’s face, his eyelashes are trembling and fluttering, his lips kissed red as he draws in breath and bites his lower lip in concentration. It’s clear he too wants more. Bucky’s hand moves without him really thinking about it, he grasps both their cocks into his fist, and now it’s even more wonderful as they thrust into it, moving together. He bites his own lip, the sting of it helping him keep his head clear long enough to be able to focus on the feeling of Steve suddenly convulsing against him and spilling over his hand. Only then Bucky lets the pressure inside his abdomen burst, and comes with elation and relief, sagging against Steve as he’s spent.

For a long time they just lie there, Bucky’s forehead pressed against Steve’s cheek and Steve’s arms tight around him, the only sounds their breathing and the rain outside. Finally Steve pulls away enough to scoop his towel from the floor and clean them up, taking special care of Bucky’s hand. They curl back in the bed together again, albeit now under the blankets since it’s getting chilly with night. Bucky rolls right into Steve again, pressing his forehead against Steve’s collarbone and spreading his hand wide against Steve’s back, concentrating on the steady beat of his heart.

“Good night, Buck,” Steve says and pulls him even closer.

“It definitely is,” Bucky says, and grins when Steve shakes with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here they are, happy for a moment at least.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little ups and downs of life, but overall they’re happy enough.

It takes longer than it should for Steve to calculate the time difference to Wakanda and figure out whether it’s an unreasonable time to call Bucky. As a fugitive it’s crucial for him to be sharp immediately after waking up, but the nightmare has shaken him, more than they usually do. It’s evening in Wakanda, but early enough that Bucky should still be awake. Steve pretends his hands don’t shake when he looks Bucky up in his contacts.

Bucky picks up almost immediately, and when he’s adjusted the camera Steve sees he’s in bed, nestled in his blankets, but with a book on his lap so he must not have been sleeping yet. Steve knows he must look much less cozy himself, because Bucky’s expression immediately turns to frown.

“Isn’t it nighttime where you are? Are you safe?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re undetected. Got even a safe house big enough to allow us all our own rooms this time,” Steve says, and turns his camera to show Bucky his room, small and shabby though it is, still all his.

“Fancy. So what’s up? Clearly you’re not on watch looking like that.”

Steve hesitates, long enough that Bucky raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Calling Bucky had been an instinct more than a decision, and he hadn’t really thought of what he wanted to say. It feels silly to complain about nightmares, but then again, even as that particular doubt rises, with it comes a bit of practical wisdom from Sam that he occasionally doles out; that whenever in doubt if troubles are worthy to talk about, one should consider if they would feel trivial coming from someone else. And Steve certainly doesn’t consider his friends’ suffering from nightmares trivial.

“Just couldn’t sleep. Or well, I did. Not anymore.”

“I see. Want to tell me about the dream?”

It’s unsurprising Bucky frames his question like this, because he often doesn’t want to talk of the content of his dreams even when he does accept comfort and help in dealing with the aftermath of the occasional bad dream if Steve happens to be there. The question makes it easier for Steve to decide to actually talk, because there’s no obligation. He knows Bucky wouldn’t mind any more than he does when Bucky can’t talk of the dreams, meaning that he worries, but his help is in no way conditional of it.

“In my dream, I was like I used to be before the serum. I was trying to get to you but I just couldn’t do it fast enough, and you were drifting farther and farther. I finally reached you, you felt cold to touch, and then you were just gone.”

Bucky visibly winces at the story, and Steve sort of wants to apologize, but he doesn’t. He knows Bucky wouldn’t want it, the same as he wouldn’t want Bucky to apologize for what he’s clearly thinking; that this dream is the result of all the times they’ve been separated, be it by force or by choice. It probably is, Steve knows he’s still processing everything related to those incidents. It’s getting better, they have talked of it, and there are no more misunderstandings at least.

“I just wanted to see you,” Steve says, rather than any of the many reassurances he might come up with but that wouldn’t really help.

Bucky smiles at him. “I always like seeing you, even if it’s in the middle of your night. What have you been up to recently?”

Steve lets Bucky distract him with chatter, and it helps dispel the dream almost as well as Bucky actually being there would. Steve left Wakanda three weeks earlier, and while they’ve been able to regularly call, there are a lot of little inconsequential things they haven’t covered and that can now be used to direct thoughts away from more serious things. Steve tells Bucky of the afternoon they spent with Wanda trying to figure out the recipe for a stew she’d had when little, the result being very satisfactory, and Bucky tells Steve of M’Tolla’s first hoverbike lessons. Apparently she’s finally tall enough to be able to handle a beginner’s bike, and had demanded to learn. She won’t be allowed to use one without supervision for a while yet, but even learning had apparently satisfied her.

After a couple of hours Bucky’s yawning more often than not, and Steve manages to convince him to end the call and go to sleep, that he’s fine by himself. The smile he gives Bucky is real, and Bucky must be able to tell it is so, because he does relent without further protest.

It’s still very early when Steve puts his phone away, but he knows he won’t be able to sleep any more. Instead he goes to make coffee and finds a book, taking them both to the little balcony they have. It’s warm enough even without the sun, and he decides to spend a couple of hours just reading, without worrying over their mission until after breakfast.

He does manage to immerse himself in the book for a while, only resurfacing when he goes to take a drink and finds his mug empty. The sun is already peaking over the horizon, and Steve leans back in his chair. The nightmare is just a memory now, but there will be others. There are too many memories that haunt him, so many difficulties and hurts in his past that he won’t be completely in peace at least for a long while yet. There are too many things he in retrospect could have done differently and better. Those are the hardest, especially when he knows there are things that haunt Bucky in his dreams resulting at least partly of Steve’s choices. It’s the same for Bucky as well, and it’s hard to learn to live with, but learn they must. They are slowly getting better with it, with each other’s help, but it’s a long road yet.

***

The next time Steve is back in Wakanda it’s quieter than it so far has been; there are less activities and they spend more time at Bucky’s house. It’s due to the rainy season, which means there are less chores to do outside, no building projects in the village or anything like it. They go to the city sometimes to visit Shuri and the rest of the extended royal family, but mostly they stay at home. Steve likes it, the simplicity of it is restful for him.

They don’t always talk, there are long periods when they just stay close to each other, listening to the rain. Bucky usually either cooks, he’s become very skilled at managing everything one handed, or reads for fun or education. Sometimes he reads aloud to Steve. Steve has been mending Bucky’s clothes, inspecting them for every rip, tear, and frayed hem. His mother taught him all the basics needed to take care of his own clothes, essential for someone as poor as they had been, and Steve still remembers. He’s glad that his eyes don’t tire as easily these days, though.

He also often draws; the sketchbook that he left with Bucky has slowly been filling up. He’s added to it during every visit, and now he’s finally getting to a stage where not everything looks terribly awkward to him. It’s easier and easier to get lost in the flow and only resurface when the day turns to evening and Bucky puts on the lights because it’s getting too dark.

It’s been raining for the whole day again, and Steve has been sketching from memory his and Bucky’s shared apartment in Brooklyn on a rainy day. Back then Steve had only liked rain in the summer when it provided ease from the oppressive heat and washed away the dust, both of which made it harder for him to breathe. During colder seasons rain was just another risk factor, another thing that made it more likely that he’d get sick when he couldn’t afford it.

He hadn’t minded as much if it rained on Sundays. By the time they lived together Steve had stopped going to church, and since Bucky had never cared much, there was no pressing need to go out. If he heard rain in the morning he usually lingered in bed, and the whole day often was slower paced and easy. Steve liked those days when he was healthy.

The rainy days in Wakanda feel much the same, slow and easy, happy. Steve drops the sketchbook on the rug and stretches, reaching up high, and looks at Bucky as he moves. When he last glanced up Bucky was reading, but now the book lays forgotten on the bed next to him, and he’s stretched on his stomach, chin resting on hand, smile on his face as he looks at Steve.

“What’s that look for?” Steve asks, picking up his things and reaching to put them on the table before getting up to the bed.

Bucky shuffles to give him space, the smile never leaving his face. “I was just thinking, back before if you’d sat on the floor like that while drawing you would have been all sore after. I’m glad to not have to worry about it.” Bucky presses a swift kiss at the corner of Steve’s mouth once they’ve settled on their sides facing each other. “I’m glad in general I don’t have to worry about you getting sick.”

“Me too,” Steve says. He means for it to come out playfully, but it’s so viscerally true that it ends up coming out almost comically sincere, and he doesn’t blame Bucky for cracking up at it. He laughs too, and presses closer to Bucky, wrapping an arm around his waist. They can take a nap, maybe, just lie there and enjoy each other. It’s not like there’s anything pressing for them to do.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes up to a crack of thunder, the storm almost on top of them. He listens for a moment, but the wind doesn’t sound dangerously high, and the goats are still calm in their enclosure near the house, so there’s no reason to worry.

He’s curled up on his side, forehead pushed against Steve’s ribs, hand clutching at the hem of his shirt. Steve is lying on his back, also awake, his hand moving over Bucky’s back in lazy circles. They should probably think of dinner soon, it’s late enough that with the storm it’s almost dark.

“I remember how people used to say that there’s grace in suffering,” Steve suddenly says, sounding reflective as if it’s something he’s been thinking for a while now.

The words immediately call up images in Bucky’s head, of Steve frail and sick, of people looking serious and probably thinking they were doing a good thing by saying what they thought, but he remembers how his blood used to boil. “I hated it,” he says, stretching his legs out and raising his head to see Steve, who nods.

“Me too. And it always seemed to come from people who had it comparatively well, as if they were doing kindness, but what did it help?”

“It didn’t. I remember you were in pain, and they were saying it as if it was a good thing, somehow. I always wanted to punch them.”

Steve actually laughs at it, his eyes crinkling, and Bucky is again awash with the happiness of just being here and now with Steve, safe and as healthy as possible. His constant brain monitoring being the exception, but even with that the results are promising.

“It’s probably not a surprise I ended up falling out of the church. There were good things, about the community and such, but it’s just too hard to reconcile the teachings with inequality and aimless suffering.”

“Not to mention the war.”

“Not to mention that,” Steve agrees.

After spending a moment listening to the rain Bucky asks, “Do you regret the falling out? Or have you considered finding a congregation again?”

“No. I don’t miss it, and these days I figure it’s better to concentrate on living as well as I can, doing my best for the people of this world. I can worry about the afterlife when I get there, and whatever it is, I don’t think whether you’ll find peace depends on what kind of ceremonies you’ve observed.”

“I can get on board with that,” Bucky says, and lies down to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder.

It’s good to know Steve seems to have come to terms with his loss of faith. Bucky has wondered about it before now, ever since he happened to think about their past in the context. He was never very religious, he has always believed there’s something in the afterlife, always believed that good people will find a good life after their time on Earth is done, but his ideas never were something as structured as the teachings of the church. They never discussed it much with Steve, but he does know Steve has struggled with his faith a lot more than he has, seeing as his mother was religious and made sure Steve too learned everything of their faith. After his mother’s death Steve had been lost for a while, had been conflicted over it long after he stopped going to church. By the time the war upended their lives his struggle with faith had been pushed to the background, and now Bucky is relieved to know it hasn’t come back as a problem. He files it away as a matter resolved, and gets up to figure out the dinner. Steve follows him to the kitchen, and they cook together, talking of the tasks they’ll do the next day if the rain lets up as the forecast promises.

***

Most of the time he spends in Wakanda Steve seems to be happy or at least in peace. He has yet to have a nightmare there with Bucky, while Bucky well knows he gets them fairly regularly otherwise. He does sometimes wonder what Steve’s general mental state is while he’s away, and suspects the difference is far bigger than it is for him when Steve is away compared to him being around. After all everything else stays the same for Bucky, he’s safe and secure, and his peace in Wakanda doesn’t rely on Steve’s presence. Meanwhile Steve also has a support group when he leaves, but it’s fundamentally different since they’re all in danger together.

There are days, though, when Steve seems to slump even while in Wakanda. They usually come without warning, and so there’s no way to prepare for them other than being aware they happen. It’s the same for Bucky, his hard days come without alerting him in any particular way, and so he’s not really surprised to see Steve frowning first thing in the morning and looking like his body is twice as heavy as usual when he finally gets up.

Bucky doesn’t mention it; Steve must know he’s noticed, but he also hates being coddled as much as he ever did, and so Bucky sets to gathering breakfast for them. He puts on coffee rather than their usual tea, because it seems to work on lifting Steve’s mood a bit on mornings like this. Steve yawns when he comes to the kitchen, but he does aim a sloppy kiss at Bucky’s temple and takes up the fruit preparing duties. It’s good to see him at least try; it was one of the hardest lessons for Bucky to learn that sometimes the path to feeling better was to first act like he was. Of course, Steve is the champion of acting like he’s doing better than he really is, but historically he hasn’t really directed those impulses that well. He’s tried to hide it more, to overcompensate, so the fact that he’s able to let Bucky see he’s not feeling great and just taking part in the regular tasks is significant.

It’s a sunny day, and on one hand it’s ironic that Steve’s down day comes now that the weather is better than it has been in a while, but Bucky counts it as lucky. With these moods it helps him to be active, to focus his energies into work and not thinking, and he’s sure it’s the same for Steve as well. First they take care of all the farm chores, and after a quick lunch they go to the village to see if there’s something that they could help with. There are some repairs needed due to the storm, very minor, but Steve sets to helping people with them while Bucky talks to his neighbors and makes sure everyone is doing fine. He also gathers supplies from the market to take back home, making a mental tally of his stores and what they need. It’s good to be able to give some of the load to Steve to carry, he could manage by himself, but having to deal with Steve’s stubbornness back when he was often ailing has taught him there’s no shame in accepting help from people who genuinely want to give it. Not to mention, he tries to not be a hypocrite.

They go to bed early, deciding together that the day might as well be done. Bucky’s reading, and Steve lies curled up next to him, arm thrown across his thighs and forehead pressed against his hip. Steve has no energy to read or sketch, but he’s not sleeping either, just lying there and resting.

“It used to be hard for me having days like this,” Steve says.

Bucky lets the book fall on his lap and looks down at Steve. “And this is not hard?”

Steve looks up and actually smiles. It’s a bit wan, but it’s the first of the day, so Bucky counts it as a win. “Okay, harder. When I first woke up in New York after Valkyrie, everything was strange and difficult, but in time it started to get better. Back then, if I had a day like this when everything was hard again it felt like all the progress I’d made had been in vain. Now I know it’s just a temporary setback.”

“Yeah, when you’re used to being better, the downs are really difficult,” Bucky says. He too has had the experience.

“I wish—” Steve starts but doesn’t finish the sentence even though Bucky waits.

“Wish what?”

Steve waves his hand as if to push something away. “Doesn’t matter, water under the bridge. So not useful. I’m glad you’re here.”

Bucky puts away the book and slides down to his back, turning toward Steve. From his last words Bucky can guess what the wish was about, that they could have been together when they both had difficult times before. It’s an understandable wish, something Bucky also sometimes shares. There are days when he does wonder what would have happened if he’d gone to Steve after D.C. Some things would be different, some the same, and in the end speculating doesn’t do much, because they’re here and now, this is their life.

“Same right back at you, Steve.”

 

* * *

 

This time his exit is planned rather than sudden. They don’t have a specific mission ahead, but there are enough leads that they’re fairly sure they’re about to be able to move to the more active phase soon. They’ve all been resting, and Steve hopes the rest of his team is feeling recharged the same as he is now that it’s time to get back to work.

He’s a bit loathe to leave, for all that he knows he’d probably be climbing up the walls soon if he truly tried to settle just living in Wakanda with Bucky. He’s not ready for it yet, but the happiness during his furloughs does make being away much harder in contrast, not only because they have to be on the lookout all the time since they’re still wanted, but also because the burden he bears feels much heavier. It’s almost impossible to not think back to the past, to think of his own mistakes as well as the choices of others that meant he couldn’t do anything but disagree. The coincidences that meant it all was so much worse than it might have if they’d just had more time. In Wakanda it’s easier to leave those thoughts behind, easier to just allow himself to rest, which is one of the many reasons he’s come to treasure his time there.

It hasn’t been easy since the fallout between the Avengers, but even while undercover they’ve managed to do some good, some meaningful work, and it’s the same with the group of the official Avengers. Things almost feel like they’ve settled, and maybe soon they can start trying to build bridges again. It’s not something Steve dares to think about too often, because it feels like every time he’s started to think his life is settling since he woke up from the ice, something goes wrong and his life is heaved upside down, each time with a lot of heartbreak. Hence even though it’s been almost two years since he first arrived in Wakanda, and not much less since he first came to visit Bucky, he doesn’t dare to think this is the new usual. It feels like asking for trouble.

He did mention it to Bucky, who said he should probably scold him for magical thinking, the way he definitely would have back before the train, but that these days he can’t help but think the same. It’s one of the many changes in Bucky, part of the new him that Steve feels like he’s finally getting to know just as well as he used to know the old one. In some ways, he probably knows Bucky now better than he ever did, because they are keeping to their promise of being open with each other, not hiding things even to protect one another, and it is working for them. Their relationship is more solid than it ever has been, even though they had to build it on a difficult terrain of past.

“Here.” Bucky hands him a wrapped parcel of several little cakes that have plenty of nuts and dried fruit in them, the kind that are easy to store and carry a lot of energy. Steve has a long trip ahead to reach the agreed upon meeting place where Natasha and Sam will pick him up before they go to Wanda, so they’ll come in handy. Steve sets them on top of his things and zips his bag up.

“You hang on to these,” Steve says and hands his sketchbook and pencils to Bucky, who puts them on their usual shelf. It’s the third sketchbook already, half-filled now, and the first one that Steve can leaf through without wincing too much at his work. He’s glad the hard-won skill is back, even though in retrospect it was stupid to let go at all. It’s another thing there’s no use worrying about, he just needs to move forward.

Bucky pulls him into an embrace and they stand in the middle of the little house, hugging each other until they hear the low hum of hover car engine coming toward them. Steve pulls back just enough to be able to kiss Bucky, long and sweet until it’s really time to go. He takes half a step back.

“That’s my ride.”

Bucky touches his cheek, just a split second of tenderness. “Stay safe.”

The words are like a talisman to Steve these days, a reminder and a protection, and he wraps them into his heart as he jumps in the car that’ll take him along the first stage of his journey. As they accelerate away he looks back and raises his hand to Bucky, who has come out to send him away. He looks back long after there’s no sight of Bucky or his farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go, circling back toward canon again in it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day when peace shattered.

The new arm is perfect, which is as much as Bucky expected. If Hydra could make him a fully functional metal arm decades ago, then it probably was a piece of cake for Shuri here and now. Having it on is approximately as conflicting as he’d expected after two years of going without, and the knowledge for what he is wearing it for is heavy.

There is danger in the air, big enough that they need everyone to combat it, and that’s why Bucky is also about to step into fray again. For a long time he has wished this day would never come, but it’s not for himself he mostly fears. It’s for everyone, be they his friends and his new community, or just everyone else on the world. None of them should have to see aliens coming down from the sky again. For Bucky it’s scary, but it’s also in some ways familiar. He has faced desperate odds many times before, he came through those times intact during the war for a while, until the day of the train when he didn’t. He’s not afraid to do this again, even when he vehemently doesn’t want to. It’s just that there is no other choice for him now, not one he could live with.

There’s also the fact that whatever is about to happen, Steve is going to be right in the middle of it, and while Bucky is able to let Steve pick his battles without interfering these days, this is different. This is one he’ll walk into right after Steve.

He has a new uniform courtesy of Shuri, and when he sees it he directs a major stink eye at her, not that it fazes her at all. He wants to chide her for trying to make him look like a relic from the past, but in the end he can’t after he puts the outfit on and it feels right, so much more than the arm does. He carries a massive baggage inside himself, he has a long hair and an arm made of vibranium, and yet the blue and brown still suit him, make him feel confident in the same way they used to do back during the war.

The confidence is surprising but good, because everything else is suddenly colored in uncertainty. Up until now Wakanda has meant safety for him, but he knows it’ll be breached now. The whole of the nation is tense, the people are either finding their way to safety or preparing for battle. It’s almost unfathomable that only hours earlier even he was almost sure of the peace lasting indefinitely.

It’s a relief at least that the Avengers arrive before the aliens, because Bucky really did not want to go into the fight without at least one more quiet moment with Steve. There probably isn’t time for anything much, but even a second is what he needs, and now he knows he’ll get it.

When he sees Steve it strikes Bucky how different he is when he’s turned his mind toward conducting a mission. His pose is more rigid, his gaze sharper even here in Wakanda among friends. There are the other Avengers as well, although Bucky gives them only a cursory glance. All his attention is on Steve, who focuses on T’Challa and doesn’t even look around.

Bucky realizes only then that Steve doesn’t expect to see him there, that’s why he’s not searching for him. It’s not an unreasonable guess, after all Bucky hasn’t been at all inclined toward returning to action, and even though Steve knows the arm exists and that it was made for something like this, even when they last saw each other only a few days ago Bucky hadn’t yet known if he could do this if the call came. It’s gratifying to have Steve light up when Bucky speaks up, to see him marginally relax. Bucky thinks Steve must be feeling the same thing he is; that no matter how dire the situation is, the familiarity of being together does make them feel stronger. They haven’t always beaten the odds, but it doesn’t matter, whatever lies ahead is better to face together.

Bucky almost laughs when Steve comes to hug him, it’s somehow almost awkward, not at all like the casual closeness that’s marked their days spent together over the last couple of years. It might be the consciousness of everyone around them that trips Steve a little, but Bucky wraps his heart with the warmth of the hug, hanging on to it after they’ve parted again. It’s another part of his battle armor, in addition to his new arm and the uniform.

 

* * *

 

Once everything is talked out and Shuri is busily working with Vision, for most of them there’s nothing more to do than wait. It’s decided that those who don’t have a task should retire to try and get some rest so that they will be in the optimal fighting condition when needed. Steve follows Bucky to the room designated for when Bucky needs to stay closer to the lab or the two of them are visiting the city, but he knows finding rest will be almost an impossible task. There is energy coiling inside him, waiting to be unleashed, and by now he’s experienced enough that he knows it’s not a good state to be in when going into a battle.

He stands at the window, peripherally aware of Bucky moving about, settling his gun and rest of his equipment on the table by the door so that they will be easy to grab if they have to deploy, getting a drink of water, turning the cover to the foot of the bed. Outside it’s a beautiful golden day, much like so many others Steve has spent in Wakanda, and yet not. The oncoming threat has made it a different country compared to the one Steve left only a few days ago. The evacuations to get people into shelters are complete, which is something at least, but Steve can’t help wishing for a moment, no matter how futile he knows it is, that the aliens had never come.

He’s been wound progressively tighter ever since he left Bucky the last time. The usual change of mindset that always happens when he leaves Wakanda for the parts of the world where he’s never safe had just been the start of it; each new setback had piled on, and now he’s reached a state where he has to consciously unclench his teeth and relax his hands. There’s too much of it, too many worries, too many regrets whirling around his head, enough that he can’t fight his way to the clarity he’ll need if he’s going to be effective in the battle. Trying to sleep would just make it worse.

Steve has fallen deep enough in his thoughts that he only realizes Bucky has moved when he’s already there, hand gently closing over his. He doesn’t startle, because even when he wasn’t consciously aware of Bucky moving, his body was, and always will be. It’s the easiest thing in the world to follow the pressure of Bucky’s hand, pulling him toward the bed.

“Come on,” Bucky says. “You need a reset and I need to be overwhelmed, just for a bit.”

It answers at least one of the questions Steve’s been mulling over, about how Bucky’s dealing with what’s happening. It’s clear he’s managing, Steve knows he wouldn’t be going out if he wasn’t, and he trusts implicitly Bucky to have his back, whatever happens. Even so, this tells him Bucky has to make an effort to be here, which is why he’s asking to be overwhelmed, to just feel without having to think.

Bucky is also right in that Steve needs a reset, and that this will work just fine. There is a chance the aliens will appear while they’ve got their pants down, but it’s a risk well worth taking, everything considered.

Same as Steve, Bucky has shed his uniform jacket, and he’s only wearing a sleeveless undershirt with flat seams designed to not chafe on top, similar to the ones Steve always has under his uniform. The new arm with its blacks and golds is sleek and beautiful, catching Steve’s eye every once in a while because by now he’s so used to there being nothing, the moments of heartache over Bucky’s lost arm having become more and more rare as he has had ample opportunity to see Bucky adapt and deal, to live well even without it. He’s glad though, because he knows how meticulously Shuri constructed the new arm. It’s stronger and lighter than the old one, and will provide Bucky with even more power than he used to have, making him more safe.

He reaches to grab Bucky’s left hand, because it’s been hanging at his side even as Bucky’s been crowding close to Steve, perhaps because when they started this new phase of their relationship Bucky only had one arm and he’s not used to having two. Steve isn’t about to press it, not now because he knows what they both need is something else, but he can make a point, and so he brings Bucky’s left palm against his chest before leaning in and kissing him.

It’s a hungry, almost desperate kiss, more so than their time apart would warrant, but it’s something the day absolutely demands. Bucky kisses him just as roughly, his new metal fingers pressing into Steve’s skin, hard enough to be just this side of pain, urging him on. Steve takes the challenge and pushed his hands into Bucky’s hair, holding his head just where he wants it, kissing while walking Bucky backward to the bed, and giving him just a slight push to make him fall onto it. 

All Steve wants is to climb on top of Bucky and overwhelm him just as he asked, he wants to have him close, wants to be next to him, on him, in him so much that his cock throbs with just the thought. He takes a second to grab the lube from the nightstand, left there during one of their recent visits, and takes several more seconds to unfasten Bucky’s uniform pants properly without damaging the closures before pulling them down and off with his boots.

Bucky makes a grab for him then, pulling him up and on top of him, gripping his hips between thighs. He almost immediately makes a sound that’s somewhat frustrated, presumably because Steve’s uniform pants aren’t the most comfortable against bare skin, even aroused as Bucky is.

“Eager much?” Steve asks, laughing at Bucky’s frown while pushing at his shirt and rucking it up in his armpits, eager to get an access to more bare skin.

“Just get to it already,” Bucky says, looking like he’s about to push Steve down and take matters into his own hands if it takes much longer.

Steve doesn’t want it though, Bucky asked for him to take care of him, if not in so many words, and Steve is going to do just what Bucky needs. It doesn’t hurt that he’s already hard and straining in his pants, just as ready as Bucky is to just get to the point. He bends down and finds one of Bucky’s nipples with his lips, and bites it just enough to puff it up, enough to sharpen the sensation for Bucky who falls back down ready to just experience the feelings. Steve keeps licking and sucking Bucky’s nipples while he fumbles the lube open and slicks his fingers. Bucky lets his legs fall open as Steve shifts, seeking access and opening his own pants at the same time. The closures are designed to be easy to open with one hand for field practicality, but this is another reason Steve could get behind.

Bucky’s very aroused by now, relaxing into the sensation, his muscles yielding easily under the pressure of Steve’s fingers as he pushes one, then another inside. It’s not every day they do this, they like the relative simplicity of hands and mouths too much for it, not to mention Bucky particularly can’t always handle the feeling of being breached and overcome. Sometimes, like clearly right now, it helps him, and Steve is happy to provide whatever he wants. They do know enough by now that when he’s at the right state of arousal Bucky doesn’t need too much adjustment, and Steve takes only a few moments to make sure Bucky is ready before pulling his hand away and slicking himself, rising up to stand on his knees to look at Bucky whose hair is an unruly chaos around his head, color high on his cheeks, and the rolled up shirt reveals his abs that are quivering with anticipation. Steve’s cock jumps in his hand at the sight of Bucky, blood rushing down fast enough that he’s almost lightheaded.

Bucky blinks up at him, taking him in while Steve is staying up, arrested by the sight of the man below him. He’s only shaken out of it when Bucky shifts, lifting one leg up and over him, turning to his stomach and pushing up to his knees.

“Come on, Steve.”

There’s nothing to do but obey; Steve takes a second to shove his pants and briefs further down his thighs and to make sure Bucky’s steady enough before he pushes in, exerting all the control he has. He sort of wants to just slam in, and soon he will, but for now he takes it steady and slow, one hand spread over Bucky’s quivering back as he makes sure Bucky has time to adjust while holding on to his wits, trying not to overcome by the perfect heat of Bucky enveloping him.

When his hips are flush to Bucky’s Steve leans down and over him, pressing as close as possible. He kisses the vertebra at the base of Bucky’s neck and reaches out to lay his hands on top of Bucky’s, threading their fingers together, connecting every part of them as well as he can without melding together. In these moments he would want to, he wants to be as much one as possible, wants to find the perfect unison they sometimes can. Bucky feels it too, he pushes up and against Steve, swaying his hips and sighing with it, making it impossible for Steve to stay still.

Steve makes sure the first rolls of his hips are gentle and slow, turning more firm as Bucky shifts under him, spreading his legs and giving him more space to move without having to rise up from where he’s plastered over Bucky’s back. The sounds Bucky makes, the sounds of their breathing and gasping mingle to provide a heady rush as Steve snaps his hips, letting go of the caution as Bucky grunts with obvious pleasure, panting and asking for more. 

There might as well be nothing else in the world other than the two of them and the bed on which the golden afternoon sun casts its warmth. Nothing else matters right now to Steve but Bucky and making sure he’ll be satisfied, the two of them climbing toward climax together. It lasts for a fraction of forever, the moment stretching around their movements against each other, around their heavy breathing and their arrested moans. It lasts but a second, it feels, it happens all too soon and yet just at the right moment that Bucky goes tense under Steve and clenches around him, holding his breath as he comes. Steve lets go then as well, slamming in for the last time before slumping over Bucky, the bliss rushing through him, drowning everything else.

When he can think again Steve rolls off Bucky and on his side next to him. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s chest, their hands still folded together. He again presses a kiss at the nape of Bucky’s neck and stays there, smiling against the warm skin at the happy little sound Bucky makes.

They lay there, sunlight dappling over theirs skin, in perfect rest for a few precious moments.

 

* * *

 

There is no time to lose, and they don’t linger in the afterglow for too long, but get up soon to clean themselves up and dress again. There hasn’t yet been a summons that would mean something is about to happen, but the moment is coming closer every second. They know there is no chance things will just blow over, the battle is inevitable.

Once they’re ready Bucky steps closer to Steve one more time, looking at him, focusing on each and every feature. He’s been doing it forever it feels, starting in his childhood when he didn’t yet properly understand the potential of loss. He used to file every detail into his mind and he does so now as well, committing the exact blue of Steve’s eyes in his memory, the shade they are at this particular moment, in this particular light.

Steve’s hands on his hips are gentle but insistent, pulling him closer, and Bucky goes, leaning into the kiss even before Steve is getting there himself. 

Bucky almost expected the kiss to be passionate, overwhelming like the sex before, but the mood has changed by now, is changing even as they come together, and the kiss is light instead, tender same as the way they press together, exchanging more light little kissed before letting even that dwindle and just standing there, foreheads resting against each other, close as they can get with their uniforms on.

They’re about to go into battle same as they have many times before, but this feels different to Bucky, bigger than anything they’ve yet faced, and he allows himself a moment to consider all the possibilities, even those that turn his stomach into ice.

“Whatever happens,” Bucky says, speaking almost without consideration, the words just spilling out, “at least we had this.”

He means it all, he means their lives, their love that bloomed full here in Wakanda, this golden afternoon in the privacy of their room, this moment right here and now, standing with Steve at the brink of a fight. Somehow he’s not bitter, he finds, even though he knows just as well as he knew during the most hopeless moments of the war that this could really be the end for them.

“I don’t want this to be it, though,” Steve says, pulling from the well of hope that Bucky knows he came terribly close to running dry but that has been slowly filling again even when life has been hard for him over the last several years. Bucky’s glad to see the familiar determination, especially on a moment like this.

“Neither do I,” he says, and presses another kiss on Steve’s lips before stepping away.

They pause for a final moment, looking at each other the way they always have done right before wading into danger, like they did in the elevator in Siberia. Same as back then, Steve nods at him, and Bucky nods back.

They’re ready, for whatever is to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: no they weren’t.
> 
> Neither was I a year ago, nor am I right now for Endgame.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed the story, I’m only a tiny bit sorry for ending it like this, with a technically hopeful ending, except in context kind of not:D I did stretch the timeline of IW a bit to give them the private moment here, I'm sure no one minds too much considering what happened in canon. Undoubtedly the fandom, me included, will make it okay again, no matter what will happen in the new movie.
> 
> I’m also on [dreamwidth](https://stellahibernis.dreamwidth.org/27492.html) and [tumblr](http://stellahibernis.tumblr.com/post/183986895282/our-sharp-edges-aligned).


End file.
